


You Are My Fate

by Shyyynobi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Character Death, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Violence, Shameless Smut, Time Travel, Violence, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 116,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shyyynobi/pseuds/Shyyynobi
Summary: Unknowingly, they bound themselves together - in past lives and the next, their souls will traverse through time. M. MadaSaku. Time Travel. AU.





	1. Destined

_Past, pt 1_

* * *

 

_Feudal Japan  
Uchiha Compound_

xox

He grunted and twisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head back to expose the pale skin of her flesh and began to bite at her skin, leaving a mark that claimed her once again as his own. He bit down further, causing her to cry out and bite her lip to silence her soft scream - he was being rougher than normal.

By now he was inside of her, stretching her walls -  _claiming_  her.

His body moved with her own, her kimono had been pushed to the side - ripped and torn in his frenzy to fill her after his month long trip — he hadn't waited more than two minutes once he reached his quarters before calling on her. The maids had prepared her earlier in the day knowing that he would call on her after his long absence, the peace she found had been disrupted the moment he returned - his energy alone could silence a room, the whole compound had been working in a flurry to fix things to his preference.

"Ma-Madara-sama!" she protested, if not by pain than by the budding pleasure that was beginning to make her thighs quiver.

He hummed his appreciation of her, lifting her to sit herself on the edge of the table in his sizable room. Like clockwork she wrapped her legs around him, allowing him to thrust himself completely in her — causing her to curl her toes and melt into the lust that he harbored - her body willingly fell into the trap, her toes curled when he began to hit a spot that made her eyes flutter.

He bit down once more on her collar, "who do you belong to?" he hissed into her ear.

" _Y-you_ , Madara-sama!"

Time slowed when he forcibly growled and plunged himself deeper, her body writhed as she began to contract — a hot fire liquified her stomach, her orgasm was on the edge of spiraling her into oblivion, she tossed her head back — pale locks of pink, opalescent hair cascaded down her back as she cried out her release, her walls clinging to him as sparks of white numbed her body.

He spilled himself inside of her, mirroring her release — together they fell into the pit of ecstasy with one another, bodies warm and submerged in the after glow of their orgasm. He traced his finger down the curve of her neck, eyeing the marks that he left on her —- they would bruise within the hour, but she wouldn't complain.

Sakura had been here for a year now.

And tonight she would be leaving him.

Originally, she had hoped that someday he would tire of her — or that she would get pregnant and be sent away by his prestigious family, to retire in a small village where most concubines lived together — past their youth and caring for the children of men that used their bodies.

Sea foam eyes stared up at his towering body, pale and perfect, as if a stone carver had worked tirelessly to create this statuesque body. Years of training and fighting — he dominated over her petite form as he dominated on the battle field. Oddly, she reached forward and touched a fresh scar covered in scabs that trailed down his abdomen, it was rare for him to get hurt.

"Did it hurt?" she questioned softly — it was unusual for her to linger around him, usually she strayed away until he called on her or spent her time in the gardens — idealizing her life before he bought her or planning a way to leave him.

For a small bracket of time he had captivated her. Enthralled her attention each night when he wanted her, and for a few months she fell into his arbitrary spell of thinking this brutal man held a heart sensitive enough for her to love.

Some days — on  _extremely_  rare instances they would lounge on the hillside when he requested her company, and for those days where he treated her as if she were a dove, they would indefinitely after turn into harsh days where he left her with bruises and words that betrayed his behavior.

In the beginning, she fought wildly against him — and she figured perhaps that was why he chose her and forgot about the others.

"Get out," he breathed into her ear, narrowly avoiding her question.

She didn't need to be told twice.

Sakura fixed her extravagant kimono and stood up — she could feel his seed begin to dribble and run down the length of her inner thigh.

"Come back in the morning, understood?" he fixed his pants — his strewn hakama had stains of blood on it, she hadn't noticed before. He must have fought quite a strong opponent to get harmed, his notoriety for bloodshed and war tactics were revered throughout the country — she crinkled her nose, death and sex permeated the air around him.

Her kimono flowed beside her and she bowed graciously, billowing the material — although her eyes held a newfound contempt for the warrior that had brought years of respect to his clan. With a peculiar eye he grabbed her jaw with strong fingers and dragged her face close to his, "don't think I don't notice the way you still look at me."

His dark, transfixed eyes promised pain — and she was sure he would call on her again before dawn broke.

xoxox

That night, a man with snow white hair rode in on horseback to retrieve her,  _Tobirama -_  the last letter her father had sent her mentioned his name. — Sakura had hoped Madara would wait another week before his return, her father had made a promise with the Senju clan to free her. On this particular night, the moon hung high in the sky with promises and whispers of freedom.

A cook in the kitchen had given her the note two nights prior, and at first she held uncertainties — unable to believe that she could leave the Uchiha compound. The night she had been taken from her village — the night that she had been stolen from her parents, chained and dragged into a war stricken area.

Sold to a slave trader — her exotic coloring earned her the unfortunate right to be sold as a concubine to the highest bidder — her virginity increased her worth.

On cold, harsh nights where the fire in her chamber barely fought the cold, she could remember standing there in nothing but a thin yukata that barely covered her breasts. Feasted on by the eyes of hungry men, he arrived in a light of glory — standing high above the men at the auction, his raven locks hung low at his hips. Dark, penetrating eyes forced her attention on him, and the auction ended only after he toyed with the other men into thinking that they could possibly win.

That day, Uchiha Madara had bought Sakura and claimed her that night as a prize for himself.

Drunk after a night of celebrating with his men - he was rough. He nearly broke her, but she bit him hard enough to sink her teeth into his shoulder and draw blood. Madara sent her away in a fit of anger.

This system would repeat for weeks.

He would take the other women to his bed instead of her.

Sakura thought she found a reprieve, her behavior would allow her to be caste away because she was too difficult.

She had thought at one point that her stubborn tenacity would force Madara to give up on her, find another woman to warm his bed of those that he owned. That hope jostled to the floor when he sent away the other concubines.

He became determined.

Eventually, he took her purity.

Slowly, she learned to succumb to the pleasure that coiled in-between her legs.

Slowly, she opened up about her village — her parents, and the longing she had to see them once more.

In a moment of heart that she didn't believe he possessed, he found her parents.

He allowed her to write to them, and her heart thawed in the incoming months for the war general.

The nights they shared together in bed - the daytime they spent understanding one another.

Although still rough, Sakura opened herself to his behavior.

It all ended rather quickly after a visit from his family, the whispers from his servants caught the attention of his father, the patriarch of the Uchiha clan - "... _you need to divulge your attention on finding a suitable wife, not some whore that you bought after a victory,"_  - Sakura had heard his father speak with him on the last night of his visit - she returned to her quarters and waited for him to call on her, but he never did.

Destined to be the leader of such a powerful clan - she understood the impending notion that a slave shouldn't be affiliated emotionally with someone like her. Instead, he would marry a woman of noble worth from another clan - much higher than her.

For a moment she thought that perhaps she could be happy simply being by his side - but the conversation changed him, changed their fate.

The last, wholesome memory they shared had fallen on the day of her birthday, spring had arrived and a new warmth settled over the compound.

"How many lives do you think we'll spend together?" she whispered into his ear one day when they sat beneath the cherry blossom tree in the garden, recently bloomed after shaking off the tail-winds of winter.

His arms were wrapped around her possessively, "enough to fill time until the moon and stars no longer rise and fall each night."


	2. Don't Shake the Devil's Hand

_Present, pt 1_

* * *

 

_Kyoto, Japan - Present Day_

_Uchiha Gala_

_xoxox_

Sakura gripped onto his hand until the tips of her fingers turned white.

Her nervousness channeled into the fibers of her body — which was unusual considering she could operate on patients and stitch together their skin seamlessly after surgery, but _this_ was beyond her capabilities.

"Why are you nervous?" Sasuke questioned her, their ascent up the towering stairs that led into large, oak doors of the building felt like a grandeur event — and with each _click!_ of her heel hitting the pavement of the large steps, her heart sped up immeasurably.

She bit back a sharp reply, "because!" she mused, suddenly very self-conscious about her choice of outfit —"this will be the first time meeting anybody in your family other than Itachi-san!" she murmured under her breathe, "of _course_ I'm going to be nervous."

"Well don't be. They'll notice," Sasuke remarked simply — doing nothing to calm her raging nerves.

They were welcomed to the entrance of the Gala by an entourage of journalists — each hoping to see the affluent members of the Uchiha family that would gather here tonight. As one of the most extravagant events held in this district each year, exclusive only to family and close business associates — it served it's dual purpose as a business event and quasi- family reunion.

The large doors opened for the recently engaged couple.

Her breathe hitched in her throat.

Sublime didn't accurately describe the effort and decoration that graced the ballroom.

Dark, cascading colors of deep, cherry red and black contrasted against one another. Large, tapestried chandeliers twinkled against the dark colors that elevated the room from simple to _magnificent_. A pianist strung together a beautifully orchestrated sonnet on the stage, his fingers worked the instrument — setting the tone for the men and women here. The dimly lit room seemed to triple in size as they entered from the top of the stairs, and most eyes turned to the duo that walked in.

Sakura flushed — felt unnerved, even.

She wasn't dressed appropriately.

Presented in a white dress — her low cut bodice revealed a generous amount of her moderate chest until it cinched around her white, exuding her slender frame — the skirt of her tail trickled into a small train with a sheer material that clung to her legs — a sparkle of embellishment finished the dress that she decided to pair with cherry pink heels — hoping it darkened her pink locks.

It had taken her months to decide on this outfit.

However, most of the women here we wearing much more conservative gowns.

A monotonous sea of voices began to cascade around the newly arrived couple — each calling over Sasuke, she followed in stride — and she was positive now that this was a Uchiha hosted event. The familiar dark locks accompanied by pale, moon kissed skin and stark black eyes must have been a dominant trait among the men and women of this family.

In comparison, she stuck out as a light of pink in a sea of black.

Eyes followed their trail, but Sasuke kept a firm grip on her hand — leading her to the other men of his family that called him over.

Her nervousness didn't subside — she could _feel_ the lingering glances, obviously she was out of place among these people, but he _was_ her fiancé — and as a successful children's orthopedic surgeon she shouldn't feel like an outcast.

Yet she did.

Emerald searched among the dark heads for a familiar mop of blond hair.

Naruto had promised he would be coming.

She had nearly begged him — but as Sasuke's best friend he wouldn't miss being here for Sasuke's promotion.

"Sasuke-kun! How have you been? I haven't seen you in years," an ecstatic voice hollered at them — Sakura peered past her finance's shoulder to see an equally tall male drag him into a hug that forced him to drop her hand.

"I know. I opened a new district quarter — I've been busy, Shisui," Sasuke lamented — an honorary smile adorned his face.

"And who is this?" the named Shisui questioned, offering his hand out for Sakura to shake.

"Haruno Sakura," she beguiled, a smile tugged at her lips and she shook his hand amicably.

"This is my fiance'," Sasuke finished for her, she moved back to grasp his hand once more to anchor her in this room — but he kept it limply reserved at his side.

She caste him a sideways glance.

"Well, we could always use more color in our family — " Shisui grinned at her before turning his full attention on his cousin, "we're having a semi-meeting in the backroom before everything begins — could you come with me?"

Sasuke agreed and began to follow the stead, Sakura followed in pursuit — but the slight turn of her finance's back and his warranted look forced her to stop.

"Take a seat over there — I'll be back soon," he wavered — Sakura looked at him incredulously.

"You're going to _ditch_ me?" she hissed quietly, low enough so no curious ears could hear them.

"You'll be fine. Grab a drink and sit down before the banquet starts," he tried to explain — but the expectant group of men were eliciting his attention elsewhere and he followed them into another room.

Sakura glanced around warily — condescending looks were thrown her way, maybe even a few whispers — but she kept her eyes trained on the tables, praying and _hoping_ that Naruto would arrive sooner rather than later or that Sasuke would have mercy on her and return quickly.

They never showed up.

A glass of warm champagne dwindled in front of her, she clasped the glass gingerly between nimble fingers and tipped it to her lips — she felt pathetic sitting at this table by herself, surrounded by unfamiliar faces that questioned _why_ she was here at all. Dozens of people from his family were in this room — and she didn't recognize one face.

A procured sense of loneliness clung to her back.

"Sakura-san," a deep voice caught her attention — slowly she perked herself to face Itachi — a small reprieve of light for her loneliness.

"Oh! Hi," she murmured happily, she stood up to give him a gentle hug. "I thought you said you wouldn't be coming?"

He gave the barest hint of a smile, "I didn't want to — but I know how much this night means to Sasuke…." he paused to see the barren table that she occupied "where is he?" — Most of the guests had arrived by now, and the room was beginning to glow with a new buzz of laughter credited to the alcohol being tossed back so freely.

Sakura glanced around sheepishly, "I'm honestly not sure…I-uh, believe your cousin…Shisui-san?— Took him somewhere a little while ago," she explained lamely.

Itachi's lips set in a firm, disappointed line, "I apologize on his behalf — I'm sure they're talking about the terms of his promotion, do you mind if I sit?"

Oh, _god_.

He was taking pity on her.

Did she really look that sad?

"I don't mind, Itachi-san — but please, I'm sure you have so many guests and family that you haven't seen for so long, I wouldn't want to keep you from them," she attempted to explain — the guilt would eat at her if he sat simply because of her.

He pulled the chair out for them both to sit, firmly marking his decision , "we have all night, I'll stay with you until Sasuke—"

The room bristled when the double barrel doors opened once more.

Casually, her eyes lifted to watch the doors open up.

The journalists and paparazzi outside buzzed to life — all eyes turned to watch a male stride into the room with a confidence and ease that breathed a new sense of energy into the room. The people in groups began to chatter and comment, a similar name tossed from lips to lips — it became rather chaotic until she lifted ginger eyes to catch sight of the man as he strode down the stairs.

Possibly one of the tallest men she laid eyes on, his tux fit the corners of his body that exuded the dominating thickness of his stature and broad shoulders. Chin high, the dark red of his tie complimented his demeanor that clearly garnered respect — he flashed a smile when different men and women began to greet him on his arrival. Long, midnight tresses of hair were pulled back that framed a more severe, devilishly handsome face.

Mangetic.

Normally, Sakura didn't fall under the spell of devastatingly attractive men.

Sasuke had been the exception growing up as childhood friends.

She froze when his eyes searched and scanned the room as if he were looking for someone. Covertly, she wanted to draw her eyes away from the man — but his gaze settled on her evenly.

An enigma.

The room tilted around her.

He became the focus, zeroing on her vision. Entranced and a little tipsy — she found herself stuck, keeping their eyes locked on one another. Seconds strung themselves into what felt like minutes that he held her gaze, the pianist led the crescendo of his song's peak, the violinist dragged the harmony in a synchronized vision that melted the voices into muted silence beyond the walls of the ballroom. Like a rose in the twilight of spring, her chest bloomed with a heat and familiarity of his attention.

Her body hummed happily.

What was she _doing_?

Sakura nervously tucked a stray pink lock of hair behind her ear and wrenched her attention back to Itachi. Slowly, she broke their smoldering eye-contact and turned her back to the man that had entered the room, facing the table and taking a long, steadying breathe.

"Sakura."

She didn't notice the familiar voice attempting to catch her attention, " _Sakura_."

She turned once more to see her fiancé standing there expectantly, holding his hand out for her to grab, "we're sitting at another table."

xoxox

It's not that Sasuke didn't care for her.

In truth, he had been there for her and supported her throughout medical school.

As friends, Naruto and herself held him through his parent's passing.

She should have known better, his priority had always been centered on his education and work. Long days that drifted into long nights, until some days he wouldn't return home, and on more than one occasion Sasuke would take to making a weekend out of it — the usual, precursory thoughts always suffocated her — was he cheating? Did he find her revolting now that they had been dating for so long? Did he not _love_ her?

No, Sakura knew he was too much of a recluse and private person to cheat on her.

Time.

He just didn't…Spend _time_ with her.

On this night — where her nerves unsettled her stomach, she had also been excited for this opportunity to meet his family — any extended family of his always elated her since his parents had passed away when they were in high school.

Yet — she felt like a background figure among these people, and to _him_.

After the banquet they paraded between groups of people, he would introduce her — keep her by his side and continue the conversation — the few times she cut in to to interject, he would remain silent and a hushed tone would fall over the conversation.

So she stopped.

By the end of the night she had forgotten about the intriguing man that had walked in and desperately wanted to leave. Many people said sweet gestured congratulations on Sasuke's promotion and joked minimally with her - and at some point Naruto finally arrived and said hello before whisking away his wife Hinata to dance.

The night blurred after that — displaced and rather bored of simply standing by his side and being unable — or actually, _unwanted_ in the conversation — she paraded a soft, genuine smile for the sake of her fiancé.

Until a sizable hand pressed gently on her lower back.

Goosebumps kissed her skin and she turned to see the towering male that had walked in to stand close behind her, his hand obscured from view.

"Sasuke," his deep voice rolled over the letters and she peered curiously at him — when Sasuke turned to face him, she noticed his face visibly stilled in shock.

"Madara-sama," Sasuke said quickly, clearly shaken by the sudden presence.

"I wanted to congratulate you myself on your promotion," he dragged his fingers over the open skin on her back and brought it to Sasuke's unsuspecting shoulder endearingly.

"Thank you, Madara-sama," Sasuke gave a small bow with his head and the male laughed heartily….Sakura watched the exchange, drinking in the presence this man suddenly filled.

"It'll be nice having you moved into my office building — I've been looking forward to seeing the work you do, I've heard nothing but good things," his voice alone could enrapture a room, and she froze when he turned his attention to her - in shy awe and captivated by the obtuse way he collected the conversation and held it on him.

"And where have you been hiding this beautiful gem?" he questioned the younger Uchiha, Sasuke cleared his throat — a nervous habit of his.

"This is my fiancé, Haruno Sakura — Sakura, this is Uchiha Madara, head of our clan and CEO of the main Uchiha branch in Kyoto," Sasuke introduced thoroughly.

_Madara…_

"Pleasure to meet you," she offered — keeping her voice even, he took her petite hand in his own — and in a moment that she couldn't quite cleverly decipher — it felt as if his onyx eyes stared through her into the depth of her soul, heartily consuming the essence of her being.

The smile and look he offered her made promises of endless summers and secrets only time could offer them.

She should have known better than to shake his hand.

xoxox

That night, with her back arched and legs straddling her fiancé's, both drunk on champagne and high off of the recognition of his promotion, Sasuke's demeanor changed after Madara complimented his efforts, something Sasuke had striven for the entirety of his life. For a moment she forgot the problems that they shared and the heartaches of their relationship that brought them on the shallow's of each other's bodily comfort many nights. For a _moment,_ she tossed her head back and reveled in the pleasure of him inside of her.

The familiar nature of Sasuke Uchiha still captured her.

"Fuck, _Sakura-_!" he groaned, his fingers dug into her skin as she rocked her hips above him, sending them both falling into the euphoric blanket of white passion that took over their bodies.

Emerald glanced down to witness the pleasure she caused him — his face twisted beautifully when he finished, but what she didn't expect was for his face to change into the striking, deadly face of the man she met that night.

Her orgasm rang through harmonious moans, curling her toes and numbing her body.

For days to come, Sakura would feel the guilt of envisioning another man's face that night - _that_ man's face.

What she didn't expect - was for him to visit their doorstep a few nights later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:  
> Thank you for reading, I'm actually a few chapters ahead on FF so I'll be posting updates regularly for this story.  
> And remember, this is a time travel -- alternate timeline story, so each chapter will be alternating.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment/kudos if you enjoy this story!


	3. The Cook and the Maid

_Past, pt 2_

* * *

 

_Feudal Japan  
Uchiha Compound_

xoxox

Her thin yukata that she had been bought in fit her tighter than before — the willowy material did little to stop the onslaught of cold that brushed her skin. Sakura had traded in her extravagant kimono for the rags that reminded her of home — she had many clothes Madara gifted her with that would have fended off the dredge of winter —

 _But_ — she didn't want to remember him.

The only keepsake of her time spent here was a small pearl brooch — she had found it tucked away in a box in the library. On a mid-summer evening she brought it to the attention of Madara — he peered at it, uninterested at first — but the lively glimmer of happiness in her eyes lightened his disinterest into a piqued attentiveness to the delicate item.

He fastened it to her chest and pressed his lips against her forehead, "keep it."

Sakura couldn't bring herself to part with it - her fingers toyed with the pearl in her pocket anxiously.

She stood now beneath the same cherry blossom tree alone — waiting, her eyes kept flicking back nervously to watch the compound light up with the news that she had disappeared. Long nights of planning allowed her to choose the best time in which the man named Tobirama would retrieve her. The guards would be fastening their time by the fire before they switched — She hugged herself to stop the shivering, but her frail nervousness couldn't fight against the low temperature.

"Sakura-san?" a thick, pleasurably stern voice called her.

She turned around to see a man at the base of the hill dressed in typical warrior garb atop a white horse — tucked beneath a winter hood his white hair stuck out wildly, reminding her of the snow leopards that prowled in the mountains behind the compound.

With one final glance over the hill — viridescent eyes dwindled on Madara's quarters. Palpable fear coursed through her, Sakura could already envision the rage stemming from the compound by dawn — and that was enough to send her jotting down the hill.

xoxox

By morning light the sun peaked over the mountains to ascertain the day, the birds chirped their greetings and a silence placated the air between the two riding to the Senju compound. Little had been said during their trip — by mid-day they would arrive to Tobirama's acreage, he did not ask questions, nor did he coddle her.

Sakura had been relieved for the granted silence.

They stopped to allow his horse a rest, he helped her down — and it was only when she stood next to him that she noticed how he stood nearly as tall as Madara — were most clan heads gifted with such height?

"We should be arriving within the next few hours," he announced to her whilst feeding the horse water from his canteen.

Sakura bowed lowly, his furs hung over her shoulders, he offered them to her after seeing her bare skin in the dead of winter — and the amount of gratitude she felt couldn't be expressed through simple gestures. "Thank you, Tobirama-sama."

He kept quiet. Contemplating, piercing red eyes glanced at her petite form, as if he were assessing her appreciation, "there's no need to thank me — your father has done quite enough for our clan over the years, it's always been a regret of my brother's and I that we were unable to save your village that night — this could have been preventable."

She had been younger then — how many years had passed since her village had been pillaged by the rogue groups that had swept over the western lands?

"Is..Is my father alive?" she murmured softly, the last letter she had received from him had been two months ago.

"Yes, he's in the south helping heal our armies — he regrets not being able to greet you, but he should arrive within the next month."

Straight forward, his aura could be mistaken as unfriendly, but she kept her gaze averted — a portion of her still felt like Madara and his men would march through the clearing in the forest and find them. Surely, he wouldn't go _searching_ for her — there were many other women willing to warm his bed, even willing to _marry_ the war general.

Tobirama handed her the outer layer of his hakama, he dragged the material off of his body, revealing the expanse of his stomach — mirroring the godly physique that her previous master possessed.

"I'm fine! There's no need for you to do that," Sakura countered - Tobirama tugged the furs off of her and wrapped his hakama around her shoulders, effectively covering her up.

"I should have done that earlier, there's no reason a woman should be dressed like that — the Uchiha's have no sense of dignity for the people in their ward," he spat, a clear and dignified hatred laced itself into his words — he did not hold in the disdain he felt towards the infamous clan.

Did he not know she had given her body to Madara?

Sakura wanted to explain the reasoning for her clothing — how _instead_ , Madara had adorned her in extravagant kimonos, how _instead_ — he gifted her with things he thought she may like on his trips away, how _instead_ — he lavished her in jewelry she had been too humble to take.

Instead, she tugged the hakama closer around her shoulders and felt the feather-light texture of Tobirama's fur's tickle her skin. Gracious, evergreen eyes peered at the Senju.

A small flush lit up her face, "…thank you."

xoxox

_Uchiha Compound_

"Are you going to tell me?"

A muffled scream terrorized the walls within the compound.

The sound of a whip cracking against fresh skin urged another hazardous scream.

It took little to get word from his servants — all secrets shook loose when their lives were imperil, and it only took his wrath for him to threaten the host cooks with the edge of his sword for them to speak up — his guards remained at the front of the door, watching with a keen interest as their master whipped the head cook.

The burly man panted, gritting his teeth against the pain, "I don't…Know where she went," the cook quivered. Sweat gathered over his body — the stench of fear invaded the room, and with each denial, another razor sharp edge of anger coursed through the Uchiha.

Madara pointed towards the other cooks cowering in the corner, "your subordinates are positive you were the one that organized her abduction, are you telling me that they're _liars_?"

The men and women remained on their knees, deeply bowed and horrified.

The cook bit his lip, hot tears rolled down his cheeks — Madara grimaced at the obscene sight, "since you're attesting to the fact that they _are_ liars — why don't we see which one tells the truth first?"

He motioned for a guard and the nearest one grabbed a woman by her hair and roughly pulled her upwards, his blade pressed against her neck, she tried to muffle back her fear, quietly pleading for her life.

"Now, tell me again — were you the one that handed her the letter?" tinted with malice and ostracized excitement, Madara waited for the head cook to deny it once more.

It didn't surprise the vengeful Uchiha when the cook shook his head lamely, denying the accusation vehemently.

The clean blade of the guard's sword stained itself with the red of the woman's blood, unable to scream — blood spurted evenly from her neck — a feral scream from the other woman beside her substituted the lost cry of the dead. Madara watched the scene unfold with clear indifference — the young woman's body remained listless on the ground, eyes open and unfixed on a broken promise.

The cook shivered.

" _Did you_ organize her abduction?" Madara repeated, his voice raised several octaves, anger brimming on the edges of his demeanor — increasingly annoyed by the time they were losing on Sakura's retrieval.

The cook wept, unable to speak and frozen in the face of death — the smell of urine littered the room.

The whip took a life of it's own and impaled itself on the flesh of the cook, with a newfound strength subsidized by his raw anger, Madara reared the whip back and cracked it onto the man's ripped skin, the maze of lashes on his back began to bleed profusely, the squealing wails of pain echoed off the walls — until he spoke up.

"I-I gave it to her! Tobirama Senju took her— _please_ Madara-sama! _Please stop!_ " the unspoken plea for his life hung on his lips.

Madara frowned.

He leaned forward and motioned towards the lifeless woman, grabbing the cook by the scruff and forcing the man to look at her opened neck, "look at what you did — you _killed_ that woman."

The man kept his eyes trained reverently on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably — he shook his head in denial, begging for his life.

"Pathetic," Madara mused, the Uchiha handed the whip to one of the guards, "kill him."

xoxox

_Senju Estate_

He arrived with a basket of apples on her second day at the Senju property, which she would later learn was only a small subdivision of land set apart from their prolific estate tucked away further west. She was stowed away in a hunting cabin at the back of the immense property, to pass the time Sakura busied herself with cleaning and waited for Tobirama to give her further instruction.

"I thought you might like these," he offered her the display of fruit.

"Oh!" slightly startled and unaccustomed to such a gentle gesture, it took her a moment to recover and bow , "thank you, Tobirama-sama — but apples can be grown in the winter?" she grabbed the basket and placed it inside the small cottage, stepping aside to allow him entry.

"We have skilled farmers."

His explanation fell short and an awkward silence stood between them — Sakura remained passive, unsure of what to say before smiling brightly at him, "…would you like some tea?" she moved towards the miniature kitchenette area to make him some — feeling unusually perturbed at the leisure time she had been offered since her arrival.

"No, it's alright — I have to meet Hashirama by nightfall so I'll be leaving shortly," he paused, eyeing the pinkette in front of him, "I requested that the other maids begin training you in the main house tomorrow," he finally announced.

Sakura visibly perked.

Work served her well — she hated thinking he had done so much for her and she could only repay it by waiting fretfully with little to do. Considering her father had worked as a healer for the entirety of her life — she had found the most pleasure in her village wrapping bandages, creating splints — and mixing herbs for the common ailments that subdued her area.

"Yes, Tobirama-sama," she bowed again, grateful for the opportunity.

"…I'm extremely thankful — I don't know how I'll ever repay the debt I owe you," cautious, gentle words that sounded like wind chimes ringing in the forest, the usually stiff and reserved man had to extract himself from washing his eyes over her.

The Senju smiled, "of course. I'll be returning in a two days."

xoxox

Sakura kneeled on her knees, scrubbing the floor vigorously with a wash cloth, attempting to clean a stain on the ancient flooring. It seemed entirely impossible — but she wanted to keep her mind busy, half of her was still expecting Madara to rush in and disrupt her freedom. The other maids were nice enough, guiding her and teaching her the daily routine and chores that were assigned each day.

The head-maid could be strict, and often times scolded her more freely than the other women working here — and Sakura could only assume it was due to her having worked for the Uchiha's. Her lack of experience in cleaning was subpar, and could possibly hint at her.… _Prior_ services, the whispers were slowly gathering behind her.

She decided to ignore it, although with the veil of security Tobirama offered, she was sure if not for him than they would have skewered her with claims of being a whore.

" _Sakura!_ " the shrill voice of the head maid called down the hall, followed by the heavy steps of the woman.

The pinkette stood up obediently, "yes, Mei-san?"

The old woman eyed her work meticulously, training her eyes on the ground and pursing her lips in distaste, "it's clear that you don't excel in cleaning floors either, although that's to be expected."

Sakura remained silent, but a bubbling anger gripped at her chest and warmed her cheeks.

"Regardless, Itama-san and his men are having a meeting — so you and the other girls will be setting the table and serving, understood?"

Her heart thumped erratically, unsure of how she was going to to seamlessly work feeding the guests without any experience.

Mei read her evenly, "—it's not a formal occasion, but you will be serving tea to refrain us from any...embarrassment. I would be normally mindful of using… _you,_ but the other two girls are pregnant and it's unwholesome to parade that around guests."

The woman explained her duties gingerly and with a tired exasperation that revealed her true age. They at first offered her a temporary outfit that replaced her dreary rags on Tobirama's request — but now she felt befitted and rather light dressed in a customary maid outfit complimented by the Senju clan's coloring.

Truthfully, she felt peaceful.

xoxox

Sakura set up the sake cups nervously — the compound felt alive with a buzz of excitement for the guests that would be arriving. The other girls finished deep-cleaning the room and scrambled to get everything in order — guiding her and snipping their conversations to direct her on what to do.

Mei repeated for the fourth time, "when you serve them their tea, keep your hands steady and _do not_ spill."

Sakura repeated the mantra in her head, determined to beset a good impression on the other workers to divert attention from where she came from — and _who's_ bed she occupied, although they had little information to gather unless taken directly from Tobirama, and she hoped to keep it a secret.

Mei shooed them out of the room when the men arrived on the grounds, "Sakura — wait in the kitchen until one of the girl's calls you."

Brushed off and temporarily displaced, Sakura did was she was told and waited patiently.

It felt like an hour passed before one of the girls peaked her head from the foyer, "Sakura! Bring the tea up, please," the nicest of them all - Megumi, solicited a smile before disappearing back to the room.

Balancing the tray on her forearm, she brought the tea to the room and could hear the baritone, masculine voices echoing from the inside. This would be her first time meeting Itama, the younger brother's of the Senju's and from what she had heard — the sweetest of them.

Briefly, she remembered the rare instances that Madara's younger brother Izuna had shown up — his use of the women in the house had been ruthless, and on more than one occasion she had heard him laugh at the misfortune of the villages that fell into the bloody wars of the clansmen.

Focused on balancing the tea, she entered the room elegantly, eyes downcast to avoid directing attention to herself than on the meeting — goosebumps rose on her skin as if she were standing outside with the winter chill, confusing her briefly until a familiar voice taunted her.

Gentle eyes peered upwards to land on the face of the man she had escaped from.

His energy suffocated the room.

Frozen like a mouse that was cornered by a cat, she stood still and trailed her eyes over the dominating form of Madara Uchiha.

"Itama," Madara began — keeping his voice even, all eyes swept to glance over the rose colored woman, including the younger Senju who watched her, hidden confusion plastered on his face —

"I'll make this simple—"

Sakura couldn't breathe.

"—You return to me what your brother stole—"

Waves of nausea rolled over her.

"—and I won't invalidate the terms of our treaty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and don't forget to leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoy this story~


	4. The Whispers of Mad Men

_Present, pt 2_

* * *

 

_Kyoto, Japan — Present Day  
Sasuke Uchiha's Home_

She couldn't fathom how the Uchiha's all held such striking faces — similar in structure but vastly different to the next, and this man was no different. Sakura's residual shock shifted and she smiled at the head of her husband's clan, "Madara-sama! What a surprise to see you here," she bowed deeply, unable to understand how his figure took up the entirety of their door frame.

"Is it?" he questioned her off-handedly, her cheeks reddened at the assumption - but she dodged answering.

He smoothly entered their modest home and glanced around the cave of their communal living space, the proof of their engagement — as if he were searching for something.

Sakura stood to the side and watched him warily, "…Sasuke-kun won't be back for a few more hours, did you need something?"

Madara faced her, taking cruel pleasure in the way she squirmed under his intrusive attention, "no, just wanted to speak with him — I could wait a while until he gets home."

Sakura bit her lip, severely uncomfortable by the heavy weight of his presence — not to mention her dream the other night stifled a horrible feeling in the pits of her stomach. " _Oh_ , well would you like anything to eat, Madara-sama?"

He sat himself down at their dining room table, "a cup of sake, please."

They were never much for drinking, Sasuke always claimed that he hated losing control of himself, and Sakura had nursed enough hangovers at this point that she usually opted out of heavy drinking.

She poured their only sake bottle in the house into a cup gently in front of him, his proximity made it difficult to breathe — and she didn't miss the way his hand brushed gingerly against her own when he grabbed the cup, sending a sharp sting of electricity tickling her skin.

"Where's yours?" he motioned towards her empty cup, "it's rude to leave your guest drinking alone."

His reprimand felt similar to when her mother would yell at her for leaving her shoes skewed in the foyer, "I couldn't possibly, I have work in the morning," she combated with a tentative laugh.

He grabbed the sake bottle and poured her a glass against her refusal, much to her chagrin. Dark eyes stared evenly into her own while he pushed the full glass closer towards her, " _drink."_

The command sent shivers down her spine, sea foam eyes remained captivated by the allure of his own and she brought the cup to pouty lips, slowly sipping the hearty liquid. She felt entranced, like a sinner coping with their decisions, the adulterous feeling coursed adrenaline through her veins.

Was it nervousness?  
Or something else?

They finished the sake bottle.

Sakura felt tickled and light, laughing at his quick replies and endless supply of conversation — she didn't expect someone as cultured as him to have a relatively open point of view with a hint of humor sprinkled on top. It felt rather… _comfortable_ speaking with him, she didn't understand the fear people had of this man.

He was human, after all.

He watched her curiously, envisioning his hand curled into her pink locks and tugging her hair back as she mewled in pleasure — the same pink lips that laughed so freely now — wrapped around the hardness of his cock. All these thoughts were minute, she spoke loosely with alcohol discarding her inhibitions. It would be difficult pulling her from Sasuke — judging by the frames decorated with their time together and her arms wrapped comfortably around the runt, he could see their relationship had blossomed from friendship.

"And you didn't question why your professor gave you such a good grade that semester?" he asked her, their conversation had at first centered around him — but now he felt adept to learn about this woman.

Sakura shrugged, "he was a nice man, and he knew that I was coping with my mom's sickness at the time — so he allowed me to make up the test."

If it were in him to roll his eyes, he would have.

"You don't think he…Felt inclined to help you for _another_ reason?"

The pink haired woman stilled, realizing the insinuation, " _Kakashi-sensei?_ " she asked incredulously, "no no, of course not! He would never, and I had barely graduated from high school so I was only eighteen when I took his class — the age difference would make that weird."

Her naivety was cute — if not more endearing.

She truly believed in the purity of others.

"If you say so," Madara lamented, tipping his cup back to finish the remnants of his sake, "you are an attractive woman, so I only assumed."

Casual, as if he were creating facts and offering them to be written down in books — Sakura averted her gaze and blushed, folding her hands in her lap. "Ah, thank you…Madara-sama."

The elation in her chest startled her.

She pinned it on the sake — She never did well with alcohol.

"Don't thank me for something that is fact, I'm sure Sasuke tells you all the time." This woman could be read effortlessly. Her face tilted and twisted beautifully to the conversation, she responded with the movement of her body, and her eyes reflected her thoughts like a projector - glimmering when she was being earnest and flitting to the side when she became nervous.

Madara found her exotic, but her mannerisms felt eerily familiar - he could only imagine the way her body would twist beautifully for him in bed.

Sakura remained quiet, unsure of what else to say — normally words cascaded through her and she had trouble reigning in her obtrusive thoughts, but his comment sidelined her. Sasuke rarely commented on her appearance…But not for a lack of thinking it, but he rather show her. The small smiles, the way he would sneak up behind her and wrap his arms around her and pepper kisses down the length of her neck.

Still, it was nice to hear it every so often.

Especially when his actions were rare, with his mind constantly preoccupied with work — Sakura found it difficult to talk to him about anything other than work, much less their relationship.

"Does he not?" her mistake of silence geared him for the delight of proving otherwise.

Sakura twisted her engagement ring nervously with her thumb beneath the table.

"Of course he does! I was just thinking about how he's been so busy with work lately — but he's excited to work with you, Madara-sama," she shifted the conversation and he had to applaud her for her bravery.

Unfortunately for her, his determination was unhealthy and costly.

"I'm sure he is," he leaned forward and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "is it impolite of me to remark on how beautiful your eyes are?"

Her body went rigid, captivated by his face inches from her own — she kept her eyes trained on his lips, he kept his hand on her temple and dragged a single digit to her lips, drawing her eyes upwards to his own. Lost in a sea of black that contrasted with her green, she witnessed the fascination in his eyes. Gently, he drew his face near and whispered in her ear, "may I kiss you, Sakura?"

A taut heat coiled between her legs.

His phone rang, effectively breaking the spell.

With a small curse, he glared at the offending item and answered with a gruff, "what?"

Sakura scooted herself back and stood up — putting a hindering amount of space between them.

It all happened quickly.

Sasuke entered his home, startled to see the head of his clan sitting at his dining table talking on the phone.

Sakura breathed in the relief of his presence, grateful that he saved her.

She refused to be home alone after that incident, when she sobered up the next morning she nearly screamed into her pillow, the empty space beside her bed told her that Sasuke had already left for work — but her thoughts remained with that mad man.

She worked later hours at the hospital, kept herself busy with her friends and continued to plan their wedding — it would be a simple ceremony, nothing outlandish and over the top — just her, Sasuke, Itachi-san, and their closest friends.

On one peculiar night she arrived to see a barrage of exquisite and refined cars parked outside — drawing the attention of their neighbors. Confused and slightly perturbed, Sakura credited it to her exhaustion after work and entered her home to the smell of food and sake. A multitude of voices echoed from Sasuke's office — they had converted the upstairs portion of their home to his work quarters - although he rarely used it. Sakura took off her shoes at the entrance and tried to listen to the muddled voices above her — but no luck.

She tip-toed her way upstairs and realized they had converted his office into a meeting room — beyond the paneled door she could see the outlines of the different Uchiha men, laughter and insults were being thrown around — and part of her wanted to leave it at that and return downstairs to get some sleep.

"Don't think about it, Sasuke-kun — your fiance' won't get home for a while."

_Shisui-san?_

That sounded like him, but what could they be doing?

"And what of the Yakuza? I'm not going to assume some fledgling group of men that think they're superior because they move a couple of grams per week - "

_Madara-sama?_

Sakura's brows knitted together — debating whether or not to leave.

The sound of a long sniff echoed beyond the door.

Sakura faced the door — confused and slightly afraid to be at the center of attention, but her curiosity urged her forward.

With a long breathe to steady her nerves she opened the paneled door quickly, "Sasuke-kun?"

The familiar faces of the Uchiha men were gathered around a long table — empty sake bottles littered the table, Madara sat at the head of the table, Sasuke to his right — but her eyes drew to the plates with lines of cocaine organized neatly in front of the men.

Sasuke stopped midway, now face to face with his unsuspecting fiancé.

She found it hard to speak, and even harder to comprehend what she was seeing, "what are you doing?" she demanded.

The other Uchiha men snickered evenly, Madara watched the scene unfold and Sasuke glared at her, "why didn't you knock? _L_ _eave,_ Sakura."

Anger fumigated the air of her confusion, "are you doing drugs in our home?" to attest to this, she could see Shisui attempt to discretely push a bag of cocaine behind a stack of papers, another set down down the cutting blade obscurely.

"I said _leave, Sakura!_ " he growled at her, thoroughly embarrassed to get caught and questioned by his fiancé in front of his superiors. The anger that leveled his voice almost shocked her, and she suddenly felt out of place in her own home in a room with strangers all eyeing her like a crazed woman for questioning him.

"No! I'm not going to allow this in our home, what do you think you're doing?" This wasn't Sasuke, not the Sasuke she had grown up with for years that had been vehemently against drugs and alcohol — no less _cocaine._

 _"_ _I'm_ doing what I want, now **get out** ," his voice dripped with acid, and the harsh glare from the one person she had come to rely on stunted her over zealous anger. Madara placed a hand on Sasuke's shoulder, attempting to dismantle the situation.

"Now, — there's no need—"

Sakura slammed the door behind her — too angry and hurt to fight against him. Disgusted with his behavior, she packed a few of her clothes and grabbed her phone — warm, unshed tears blurred her vision, but she ran downstairs — halfway expecting Sasuke to emerge from the room to speak with her — but the laughter and talking continued upstairs.

She waited, hoping that he would at least try to explain to her — or at least _stop_ her from leaving for the night.

Stupidly, she waited in front of the door, counting down the seconds — but he never came.

Her chest hurt, and on her drive to Ino's house — she cried.

The next morning, bleary eyed from crying, she expected missed calls from Sasuke or a text message wondering where she was or if she was alive — but the only missed call and voicemail she had was from an unknown number.

The voice on the voicemail forced goosebumps on her skin, "…I hope you made it to your destination safely, but there's things we are going to need to discuss, Sakura," Madara echoed through the phone.

Feeling more empty than resolute, Sakura ignored Madara's message and limply held the phone in her hand, "…Sasuke didn't call," she murmured sadly to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for those that have left a comment and a kudos -- I really appreciate it. 
> 
> If you enjoy this story, don't forget to leave a comment or subscription notice - it serves as a lot of inspiration!


	5. The Night of a Thousand Fires

_Past, pt 3  
_

* * *

  
_Feudal Japan_  
_Senju Estate_

He raged into the household, guards skewered around him to allow the younger brother of the Senju clan entry through the hallways — maids and workers alike peered cautiously as he tore to his younger brother's quarters. " _Itama_!"

"You need to calm down, brother—"

Tobirama ignored his elder brother's words, "you're too lenient on that man, Hashirama," he growled, "he comes into _our_ home, threatens us with declarations of war and you're going to stand there and defend him?"

Sakura gripped the handle of her broom until her knuckles turned white in the foyer, she could hear the anger in Tobirama's voice and the throws of vexation between the three men. Her mind instinctively wanted to seclude herself elsewhere in the estate — the trepidation and fear after the meeting earlier ravaged her nerves.

_"—_ _and I won't invalidate the terms of our treaty."_

_A collective gasp echoed around the table, but Itama kept his face hard — fearless in the face of the man that had myths created in his name. "What is it that my brother allegedly stole from you?"_

_Sakura felt paralyzed, the tea pot shook in her hand and she bit her lip in an attempt to silence herself. All eyes remained fixed between the two opposing clansmen, until Madara motioned towards the pink haired woman — "her."_

_Itama remained unfazed, though he eyed her in an attempt to understand the situation, "if my brother brought her here, then there's no reason as to why I find reason to simply hand her back to you."_

_"_ _So you're willing to risk the lives of your clansmen, people, and land for a girl?" Madara shot at the youngest Senju._

_The monochromatic haired man took a sip of his sake and leaned back to eye the manipulative Uchiha, "and you're willing to wage a war in an attempt to get her back."_

She had been sent back to the hunting cabin under Itama's orders under heavy guard until the Uchiha men left, but she didn't miss the unruly gaze of the man that had stolen her purity that promised he would be returning. Sakura took a steadying breathe, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear when Tobirama entered the room she had been sweeping.

"Are you alright?" he questioned her, quickly walking over to her with his cloak whipping behind him. He inspected her thoroughly, surveying her before glaring back at his youngest brother.

Sakura barely had time to ward off his worry before he guided her closer to himself.

"I told you that he would be arriving, why did you let him on the grounds?" Tobirama snapped at Itama.

Hashirama sighed and looked at Sakura despairingly, "please forgive my senseless brothers. It seems that there has been some confusion involving you."

He smiled warmly, akin to a light that never flickered — it sedated the nerves that twisted her stomach. Nearly forgetting her manners, Sakura bowed graciously for the three men in front of her, "I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble, Hashirama-sama — if it causes any more upset, I will gladly return—"

"You won't be returning to Madara," Hashirama announced, much to the relief of his younger brother, "—although I will have to question why he's so inclined on your return, are you in any way affiliated with the Uchiha clan?"

Tobirama clenched his jaw, "her father is a medic for _our_ armies, her village was ransacked by the Western Rogues years ago and she was sold off to Madara," he explained for her — Sakura thanked him with a small smile.

"The Western Rogues took my wife's childhood village - are you from the Kanazawa area?" Hashirama questioned her, suddenly enlightened.

Sakura brought her finger to her forehead, reflecting the small diamond on her forehead, "yes, Hashirama-sama."

"That explains the mark on your forehead, my wife also has that mark — it's dignified only to that area, no?"

She nodded, "our women wear it once they reach…sexual maturity," she murmured softly.

Hashirama bowed, for the sake of his clan and the young girl — Sakura could see the flicker of understanding behind his eyes, although it bounced over his other two brother's, the pinkette bit her lip — praying he wouldn't tell anyone why Madara had purchased her.

"I see, well fear not — I'll talk to Madara myself, I'm sure we can come to a mutual agreement," he laughed uncannily, it sounded hearty and _light_ — enough to temporarily qualm her fears.

xox

She couldn't sleep.

The blanket of unconsciousness wouldn't veil her in obscurity— the moon hung prettily in the sky from her window, she curled the blanket further around herself to fend off the cold air in the cabin. She could hear the heavy breathing of the guard outside that Tobirama forcibly stationed outside of her home, an unsettling fear settled itself in her sternum — making it difficult for her to breathe.

Why?

She was in the safest location that would protect her from Madara. Sakura had been a firsthand witness to the lengths of his power and what he was capable of doing, how he paced in his quarters — envisioning the death's of those that had wronged his clan. He purposely had kept her away from the executions in the compound, but she had seen his _hunger_ for devastation.

Footsteps cobbled over the grass near her window.

Her body froze, she gripped the edges of the blanket and watched as a hooded shadow passed by her window and snuck up on the guard. Sakura shot forward, barely able to scream before the faceless figure grabbed the guard and covered his mouth and jerked the guard's neck, a sickening _crack!_ ripped through the wall of her cabin — the thud confirmed the guard's death.

A terror similar to when she had seen her village had been lit in flames tore through her — she grabbed her shawl and a small knife from the kitchenette.

The figure kicked open her door, a fox mask concealed his identity, reflecting the moonlight and the fear that quaked through her petite form. Sakura shakily held up the knife, "don't come near me."

"Let's make this simple, girl."

He apprehended her in seconds, Sakura thrashed against the man — crying out and attempting to kick him as he gripped both of her hands and locked them behind her back. He shoved her through the doorway, a silent sob choked her when her eyes landed on the dismembered figure of the guard lying callously on the floor.

Vaguely, she could see a flicker of light in Tobirama's quarters in the distance at the main house.

She screamed, an air splitting scream that tore through the forest and made her throat raw.

He punched her — and the darkness she had craved swept her into it's arms.

xox

_Koji Viilage - Westward perimeter_

Madara watched the village burn.

The screams of the people within the village resembled the agony of Hell as women and children ran from their homes while the dead bodies of fighting men continued to climb and fall at his men's feet. With an apathetic eye he waited for the village elder to drop down on his knees before him. His men dragged the old man out of the village and bent him on his knees, battered and bruised — Madara sat atop his horse to glare down at the man.

"Do you know why this is happening to your village?"

The old man spat at his feet, "you men are _monsters_! This village falls under Senju jurisdiction, do you know what you've just done?!"

He really tired of ornery old men.

One of his guards brought a katana and a scroll from one of the houses within the village, "—I also understand that you stole one of my clans' artifacts, or were the Senju having you hold it here thinking that I wouldn't find out, old man?"

The old man kept his gaze even with the items, "you Uchiha are sickening. I hope Hashirama-sama kills you while your clansmen watch!"

A small flame of anger licked at Madara's temple.

"Destroy the village and make this pathetic old man watch his sons get killed."

One of the guards grinned, the old man suddenly loosened himself - "wait, _wait_ -"

A young boy was dragged forward fighting wildly, the same sharp eye and hatred for the Uchiha were bright in his eye. He wondered how someone so young could hold such anger and envy in his heart. Madara remembered being indoctrinated to believe that the Senju were horrible people — a breach of power that shouldn't have gathered enough courage to question his ancestors.

Hashirama had briefly proven otherwise.

He didn't regret his decision to have the fire of hatred extinguish out of the young boy's eyes while his father watched — resolute, perpetuating the cycle of hatred. Peace would never be a viable option, peace wouldn't quill the fires of the night, peace wouldn't serve justice, peace only leeched onto the belief that love conquered indifference.

xox

The sharp sting of air doused her consciousness.

Held half-hazardly over the horse on the man's lap, Sakura's adrenaline coursed through her when she realized the situation she was in. Tentatively, she fauxed sleep to keep her captor unaware, strewn across the horse, the inquisitive girl noticed a blade in his holster sitting on his hip.

Fate decided, she blinked back the black spots that danced in her vision and slowly reached for the knife.

The male kept glancing back to make sure no one was following them, Sakura's thin fingers crept forward, with a refined bravery that she didn't know she possessed she gripped the handle of the blade. Slowly, her movements were masked under the rough footsteps of the horse — the man kept his vision forward.

In one swift motion she stabbed him in the stomach.

The man cried out in pain, losing his reign on the horse and flailing, effectively spooking the horse that bucked the duo off. Sakura landed on the ground with a hard thud several yards away from the man — air knocked out of her, she struggled to breathe, a loud ringing in her ear perpetuated the pain in her temple.

Her eye caught hold of the dagger a foot away from her, slowly and half-aware she pulled herself to the dagger, the sound of heavy footsteps and a string of curses — the presence of the man stood over her, she gripped the blade and lunged upward blindly.

He had been closer than she thought.

Her blade stuck itself in the man's neck, the stench of iron infiltrated her nostrils and blood spurted onto her thin gown. With a silent scream, she kept her grip on the handle of the knife, twisting it into his neck and staring into the eye's of the man that was quickly bleeding out on top of her.

Death reflected in her tear stained eyes.

Fox mask fell lifeless beside her.

Sakura scrambled and ran.

Drenched in his blood and a white gown, she ran through the forest littered with dangerous animals that could be more lethal than that man, her bare feet scraped against the harsh terrain of the forest floor — the only reprieve she had was the moonlight filtering through the dense treetops, lighting a narrow path for her to follow.

Adrenaline pumped her legs forward, she had to find shelter — she had to find her way back to Tobirama's estate. Sprinkles of flames of light in the distance and harsh yelling forced her to stop and find refuge near a fallen tree. The cold pricked at her skin, she shivered violently in the onslaught of the winter air — praying that they wouldn't find her.

The sound of hounds howled throughout the forest walls.

She ran again, the shouts of the men as the dogs caught her trail barked rapidly in her direction, the sound of horses and men titillated her fear — they were going to catch her, they would find the man's body and Madara would imprison her. He would keep her barred in his compound, the memory of his face and the nights he spent working her body forced her to push past the wall of her legs screaming for reprieve.

The dogs caught her first.

They howled their catch, one nipped at her ankle - the sharp sting of their teeth made her lose her balance and fall on the cold forest floor — a sickening crack in her arm felt like shrapnel. The dogs continued to growl at her, pinpointing her throat, tears welled up in her eyes. Angry with herself and the situation, the dark faces of the men arrived from the shadows, bodies accented by the flames of their torches.

"Looks like we found our murderer," one of the men announced.

Four of the men attempted to grab her.

An impediment of doom loomed over her.  
Her heart paced in the back of her throat.  
He would kill her.

The sharp blade of Tobirama's katana stuck out through one of men's chests — she scooted back amongst the pain. Sakura watched him kill each of the Uchiha men in a skilled dance of blades, twisting his body mid air and plunging his sword effortlessly through their armor. Like a snow leopard ravaging it's kill, the moonlight highlighted his white hair and broad stature, the marks on his face contorted with the vehement growls that escaped him. The blood of his enemies covered his body in his relentless attack against the group of men.

Sakura had never seen anything so beautiful.

The men's bodies were scattered across the forest floor.

The hounds ran off, leaving them in dedicated silence in the presence of death.

He kneeled down to survey her body, "are you injured?" he panted.

Sakura shook her head, "…it's not my blood," stained in red and white, bruises covered her body and her eye was nearly swollen shut from her captor knocking her unconscious, "I'm ok."

He helped her up, his piercing red eyes glowed in the intrusion of darkness.

"Thank you again, Tobirama-sama," she murmured, attempting to ignore the pain in her wrist.

The statuesque male shook his head, offering her his furs once more, "don't thank me."

Sakura hugged herself, the memory of her plunging her knife into that man's neck haunted her.

"We will be heading to our main compound," Tobirama held her close, helping her walk to his horse.

Sakura nodded and bit her lip, guilt ate at her — this was not worth her leaving, "I'm sorry - I didn't mean for any of this to happen—"

"Stop apologizing," he interrupted, and for a brief moment she witnessed the cold, hardened man lift his lips in a small smile to comfort her — under the trail of moonlight he looked magnificent, lighting a small flutter of nerves in her stomach.

In the darkness she could feel his proximity and warmth, he spoke up once more with an ardent, tightened voice, "—Madara has castrated and burned the villages on the outer perimeters of our land-"

She envisioned the young children crying for their mother's, she imagined the men attempting to defend their homes and loved ones, she remembered how she stayed over her mother's weakened body, refusing to leave her when the Rogue's tore apart her village.

_"-_ He he has declared war with us once more."

xox

That night — a declaration of war announced itself across the land, a treaty that had consummated peace between the eastern and western clans suddenly clashed the night that a thousand fires rang through the borders of the western villages. Madara watched it unfold, the scroll sitting heavily in his pocket, and he waited. The crest of the Uchiha danced in the flames that scoured the innocent, alluding to the legend that there had once been a man that started a war for the sake of his lover that had been taken from him. According to legend, he had a love so intense that - the lives of hundreds would be caught in the wake of their union.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update on this story -- I appreciate those of you that have commented, I honestly didn't think this story would get much of a response so I sort of forgot about it. But! Fortunately, I am now five chapters ahead so the updates will be much more consistent. 
> 
> Also, if any of you are on Tumblr and would like to follow me, I made an account to interact with you guys for my fiction stories and let you know update times and all that jazz ~~ it's Shyyynobi.
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment/subscription notice if you enjoy this story, thank you~~


	6. Initiation

**_Present, pt 3_ **

* * *

 

_Uchiha Home  
Kyoto, Japan_

Nothing.

Sakura waited patiently for the second night in a row for her fiancé to return home. The rain trickled on the rooftop, the comforting noise of water washing over the Earth brought a sense of balance to her nerves, but still _nothing_ — the tea that she had made sat cold in front of her, absently she toyed with her engagement ring.

She had called him at least twenty times in the last two days after her reserve broke when he wasn't home. Her phone remained mute on the table, she even went as far as to call Naruto to see if he had taken refuge away from her with their best friend, but even he said he couldn't get a hold of him.

Sasuke was with _him_.

Somewhere in the hollows of her stomach she knew there was something more pressing than their relationship forcing him to do this, this was completely unlike him. Sasuke had always been reserved, but in the past year alone they went from a normal, loving couple that had their share of disagreements to… _This._

An ocean stood between them now, and it felt like she was the only one risking her life to reach him.

Her fingers dialed the number before she could stop herself.

xox

_Uchiha Madara's Office_

_Kyoto, Japan_

"Your fiancé is calling me," Madara said pointedly to Sasuke.

Sasuke glanced up momentarily from the map spread across the table — his eyes alive with a fire as he sketched out the details of their next haul, "—just ignore her," he murmured absently, he resumed his work, disinterested in the news — Madara waited as the phone continued to ring.

The younger Uchiha stopped and glanced curiously at the phone as if recognizing the implication, he looked at the leader of his clan with a sour face, "…how did she get your number?" he asked cautiously, a tinge of warranted jealousy tainted his voice.

Madara ignored Sasuke and answered, " _Sakura—"_

"Where is Sasuke-kun? I know he's with you," Sakura growled into the device.

"And how do you figure that?" he chimed, his thick voice always resonated in her conscience — but she ignored it in favor of her anger.

"Because ever since _you_ came into the picture he's been acting differently — I don't know what you have him doing right now, but I swear to god if you're forcing him I'll —"

"You'll what?" he murmured darkly, Sasuke watched him with a renewed attention and Madara waved the men out of his office, including Sasuke.

The younger male stayed rooted in his spot, refusing to move until he understood why she was was calling him— Madara narrowed his eyes, Shisui read through the glint of anger and put a hand on Sasuke's shoulder, "come on."

The room cleared.

"I'm not sure," Sakura finally murmured, "—but I haven't seen him for the last few days and I know he's with you."

"I told you there were things that we needed to talk about."

"My _fiancé_ can talk to me about those things, _not_ you."

A spark of excitement flickered in Madara, "—I'll have a car pick you up at eight."

He hung up knowing she would be stepping into the car later that night.

xox

 

Sakura had never wanted to be _that_ type of partner.

She paced back and forth in the hallway, habitually chewing on her nails in an attempt to figure out what to do. Sasuke wasn't answering his phone even after her clipped conversation with Madara, and she noticed that he had left his laptop in his bag in the living room — he must have forgotten to pack it while she had been working late at the hospital last night.

There had been one month when Sasuke first started to sleep at his office and Sakura had assumed the worst. There had been an assistant of his that batted her eyes at him and politely ignored Sakura's existence in Sasuke's life — as if he _didn't_ have a fiancé.

She assumed he was sleeping with his assistant.

One night she showed up at his office when he didn't return home with tomato onigiri and found him with red-rimmed eyes running through numbers and stacks of papers before they opened the new branch. The office was empty and the red haired assistant was nowhere to be seen.

The guilt for assuming that someone as hardworking as Sasuke could possibly _cheat_ on her when he had chosen her to be his wife tore her apart — after that she promised she would never be the insecure, distrusting partner that snooped around to find things.

Sasuke wouldn't hurt her like that, he could be distance and closed off - even downright _rude,_ but he wouldn't cheat.

Except the image of Sasuke snorting cocaine in their home split the foundation of trust between them.

He hadn't even tried to contact her in the time since then —

Quietly, she grabbed the laptop and opened it on the coffee table, a layer of sweat gathered on her forehead, could she live with herself after creeping through her fiancé's work computer? Reservations gone, a new determination ignited her bravery.

The laptop blinked awake and stared back at her — she inputted their birthdays backwards into the password bar and held her breathe as the screen split onto the picture of them when they went on vacation to Kanazawa, a small smile spread onto her face.

He never smiled in pictures, but with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist while she stared at the camera, Sasuke had glanced down and watched her endearingly — she had the same picture framed in her office at the hospital.

Her heart hurt to think this had only been a year ago.

An email popped up once the internet connected.

_RE: Uchiha Itachi_

_-What do you think you're doing? I told you this was a bad idea._

Sakura glanced curiously at the message and hesitantly opened his email, dozens upon dozens of unread junk mail sprouted, but among the muck were unhighlighted emails, one in particular made her heart thrum unhappily in her sternum, threatening to jump out of her throat. This was wrong, she shouldn't be doing this. Disgusted with her behavior, she was about to close the laptop when she found an odd e-mail.

The subjected was labeled _Haul_.

_Re: Su-800  
-Where at tonight?_

_Re: Sh-769  
-Mirago 0099_

_Re: Su-800  
-Are we going to need to bring anyone else?_

_Re: Sh-769_  
-Yes, Yak may be trying to make a split. Be prepared.

It ended, the cryptic messages made no sense to Sakura, but she could essentially figure is that Sasuke was Su-800, but who would the other person be? And the Mirago? Nothing that she was familiar with registered. Of course, they lived in Kyoto - a city that hosted hundreds of shady backdoor businesses that strayed under the radar, but even the time wasn't decipherable.

Sakura glanced through his inbox again, typical business emails and spam did nothing to solve any of her concerns. Aside from the most recent message from Itachi and the messages she read, her stomach churned and she refreshed his email once more out of habit — she froze.

They were gone.

He was deleting his emails — he deleted the emails she read.

Sakura closed the laptop with a sinking feeling, "Sasuke-kun, what are you doing?"

xox  
_Mirago Lounge  
Kyoto, Japan_

Madara lit the cigar and sucked in — the taste of oak and toasted cedar cherry cleansed his palette, with an appreciative murmur he blew out the smoke, "where's this from?" he asked Shisui who stood by the window peering outside waiting for Sasuke to arrive.

"I believe it's from the Dominican Republic, Madara-sama," Shisui kept his attention craned on the window.

"He's not here yet?" Madara poised, the cigar burned limply between his fingers — tonight would be a special night for everybody, especially for the young woman who had voluntarily decided to wrap herself within this clan.

Shisui shook his head and took a seat opposite of Madara, "—do you think he's going to bail?"

Madara motioned towards the stationed cigars in the box on the table between them, "no, I don't. He's been planning this since last year, someone as dedicated as him wouldn't get nervous last minute like this."

He sucked in deeply, relishing the undertones, "-and if he _does_ , I'll have to speak with you, Shisui."

Shisui kept his eyes trained outside the window, "Itachi is going to hate me."

As the middleman that had brought Sasuke to them, Shisui would be held responsibly for anything that Sasuke failed to do. It had been difficult at first to get past Itachi. The elder Uchiha brother heavily guarded his younger brother in an attempt to keep Sasuke away from them, but it had been a futile effort. Not everyone had the moral high ground like Itachi, and Sasuke clung to them like glue once Shisui had contacted him when he opened the new branch in the third district.

Shisui lit one of the cigars, surprised when the familiar taste touched his lips "a Don Arturo? What's the special occasion?" knowing Madara for the majority of his life, he smoked these when they made a huge haul — or another group moved, or—

Madara glanced out the window and flicked the ashes of his cigar in the silver tray, a devious smile planted on his lips, "you'll see."

 

xox

Sakura pressed her forehead against the cold window of the car, nervousness rattled her and chipped at her shoulders, why was she so nervous? They would only be having dinner, she would ask him a few questions — Madara would tell her, and she would leave. Simple.

She gripped her phone tightly in her hand, Sasuke _still_ hadn't called her yet — what could he be doing right now?

Sakura called him one last time, praying that he would answer so she could tell the driver to run her back to her house and she could forget that she had ever decided to speak with _him_ alone. The memory of his breath tickling her ear and the goosebumps that raised on her skin when he touched her sent a shiver down her spine.

" _May I kiss you, Sakura?_ "

Her call was sent to voicemail, spurting another harsh dose of anger

The car stopped at the front of a hotel — Sakura's eyes nearly bugged out of her head, "excuse me, sir?" she glanced at the flashing lights of _Mirago_ that glowed against the nightlife of downtown Kyoto. People bustled in and out of the hotel, women dressed in unwholesome outfits ready to bounce from bar to bar and men dressed in pressed suits and collared shirts - a drunk couple laughed their way into the lobby, Sakura stayed in her seat.

"Is this the right place?"

The driver didn't say anything — another man walked over to her door with an umbrella to shelter her from the rain and opened the door for her. Tentatively, Sakura stepped out of the car and gave a once over to the towering building, ready to call off everything, she refused to step foot into a _hotel_ with him, a flicker of anger subdued her nerves — how dare he even _think_ she would do that to Sasuke.

Wait.

_Mirago._

Reality slapped her across the face — the e-mail from earlier had specifically mentioned this building, but why would Sasuke be at an upscale hotel late at night? And why would Madara bring her to him like this? Had Sasuke already been here? Questions swirled in her head, she needed answers. Sakura pulled at the hem of her skirt and gathered the anger to confront the head of her fiancé's clan.

xox

She was led to the fourth floor, the man knocked on the door — men of varying sizes dressed in all black were sprinkled throughout the hotel, each looking equally menacing and kept their eyes trained forward. Sakura couldn't help but slowly piece together the clues that were serving to confuse her further, she hadn't eaten all day trying to wade her way through the possibilities, and she could feel the hunger scratching at her stomach.

"Sakura," Madara greeted her from within a dimly lit room, the thick scent of cigar smoke clung to the air, causing her to scrunch up her nose in distaste.

The door closed behind her, leaving her and Madara alone in the sizable room.

"Where's my fiancé?" she demanded.

Dressed in a black dress, his eyes drank in the sight of her — pale, pink hair kissed her shoulders — the dress hung nicely on her, but he could see the outline of her figure beneath her small jacket, void of any make up, her eyes were lit up with emotions. Somehow, this woman managed to sparkle before him without trying, "you look beautiful tonight."

Sakura floundered, not expecting such a crass compliment so quickly she kept her fists balled at her sides angrily, "—I asked you a question."

Madara poured some champagne in a glass, "and I complimented you," he baited her. As a peace offering, he grasped the glass and held it out for her, the bubbles rose to the top of the cup. She bit her lip and glanced around the empty room, half hoping to see Sasuke tucked in a dark corner somewhere.

"No, thank you," she declined.

Madara poured a second glass, "I'll offer you a deal, drink this glass of champagne with me and I'll answer any questions you have."

She had watched him pour it straight from the bottle, any sign of him drugging her could be tossed aside, with a small tout of annoyance, she walked forward and grabbed the cup from the table, "fine, _one_."

He toasted her, "to a special night, no?"

Sakura glanced at him warily and clinked their glasses and brought the glass to her lips and tipped it backwards, sipping the contents until the champagne filled her stomach. With an empty glass she set it back down on the table roughly, "now tell me where Sasuke-kun is."

Madara raised an impressed brow, her audacity was charming — for a moment he believed that she could be useful in their world, although someone as sheltered from what the world _really_ was couldn't understand the intricacies of their work. He would decide tonight after the events unfolded. The large male slipped past her to stand by the window and drew back the blinds until they revealed the expanse of the back alleyway of the hotel.

She followed him hesitantly, unsure what she should be looking at.

"Has Sasuke told you what he's been working on this last year?" Madara watched as a black van pulled up with a similar black car behind it. The alleyway was a dead end, food and supply trucks were the only visitors — and the occasional employee that took their break to smoke, but it had become a frequent spot for their distributions.

Sakura kept her attention focused on the two vehicles, "of course, he's been opening a new branch in the third distri—"

"Aside from that."

He stood behind her now, she could feel the edges of his chest against her back, Sakura took another step forward closer to the window to put space between their bodies, "…no."

Madara chuckled, soft and light — if she had met him in another life it would sound welcoming, "your fiancé has decided to take up _other_ endeavors for our clan. As far as opening the new branch — he did a good job, but tonight is his night."

Shisui exited the black car, and to her astonishment Sasuke got out of the driver's seat and walked over to the black van, her heart rate spiked at the sight of him, he reminded her of a shadow that she could never see out of the corner of her eye but knew it was there, "Sasuke-kun…?"

"He's been working on his initiation," Madara began, "it figures he's kept you in the dark about our clan — did he tell you that we had reached out to him a year ago?" his words echoed in her ear, his body nestled against hers — but she couldn't move, she watched Sasuke speak to the driver of the van and a host of other men walked with Shisui-san and Sasuke to the back of the vehicle.

Another car pulled up.

"As a respectable surgeon I wouldn't expect for him to want to drag you into these types of things, but I'm going to show you _exactly_ who you're marrying," he tickled her skin now, Sakura remained rigid in the presence of this man, he smelled of oak and cherry and smoke.

From their vantage point they could see everything, she could see the curve of Sasuke's face, the way he kept his face hard when he concentrated — they opened the back doors of the van and a crate was pulled from the inside. Her fiancé opened the crate when several men from the new car walked forward — the group of stoic faced men stood behind Sasuke and Shisui.

The lid of the crate slid to the side.

Guns were obscurely hidden in barley. Sakura had never seen a gun in person, no less such big ones that were only ever fired in the movies that Sasuke would force her to watch with him — her hands clasped over her mouth to suppress the shock. Three more crates were brought out, each opened to reveal a new host of guns.

"No..." she murmured subconsciously, disbelief cradled her.

Sasuke shook the hand of an unfamiliar man with blond hair, the two men sized the crates and pulled out one of the larger guns — gripping it in his hand and eyeing the machine. Sakura gasped, guns were largely outlawed in their country, and getting one was equally annoying as it was difficult so most people opted to not get one in Japan. Gun violence was so rare that even seeing the weapon made her stomach drop.

"Is he…?"

Madara finished his champagne, "he's distributing illegal weapons," he said simply.

The words sounded final, they stabbed through her shaky reserve — A black bag passed from the two buyers who rounded their men to reseal and grab the crates and they handed it to Sasuke. One of her fiancé's workers counted the money in the bag and nodded towards Shisui and Sasuke in confirmation.

_How…?_

The sound of popping echoed throughout the alleyway, causing Sakura to jump at the sound.

Yelling could be heard — another SUV pulled up towards the alleyway to block them off and several masked men began shooting, Sasuke ducked behind the van and began yelling at his men, Sakura watched in horror as Sasuke shot back at the intruders - from the safety of the fourth floor it sounded horrifying, screaming from the sidewalk shook her disbelief.

" ** _Shit_** ," Madara hissed under his breathe.

He pulled a hand gun from his waist band, "— _Madara-sama!_ " a host of guards burst into the room.

Before he could say anything, Sakura ran.

" _Sakura!_ " he yelled after her, she could hear his heavy footsteps chasing after her.

She sprinted towards the stairwell, her heart pumped erratically in her chest — tears sprung to her eyes, she couldn't watch Sasuke get shot, there was nothing she could do, but she couldn't stand there and just do nothing but watch her fiancé get killed.

Lost in the maze of the hotel's backdoor corridors, she worked off instinct and could see the door that led to the back alley of the hotel once she landed on the final flight of stairs, "-Sakura!" Madara growled after her.

The echoes of what she could only describe as champagne corks popping stopped once she reached the door, it had a small window and she could see the tip of Sasuke's head through it - she was about to burst through the obstacle when a strong hand wrapped around her wrist. "Stop it!" she screamed, kicking against the strong arms of Madara.

He held her close to him, he dragged her to another room that had a window in front of the van, covering her mouth with his hand, "—let me go!" she muffled into his hand.

She stopped when she saw Sasuke holding a gun with practiced ease in his hand a couple of feet away from a man bent down on his knees. The man was yelling something she couldn't make out, but she ripped herself from Madara's arms and watched — _waited_.

Shisui said something to the man.

He spit at Sasuke's feet.

Shisui socked him in the face.

Then he motioned towards Sasuke.

With a face that she hadn't seen before — something so cold and lifeless and _hard_ , her fiancé spoke.

"No…" she whimpered, she couldn't watch this.

Madara grabbed her again and pulled her close to him, obscuring her view from the scene "— _this_ is who Sasuke is."

Sakura could only watch in shock when she peered past Madara as her fiancé pulled the trigger and blew through the man's skull, her lips parted in a soft call for the man she had grown up with, the one she had fallen in love with, the one had that cried over his parent's death and clung to her arms on the night's where it was too much to bear, "Sasuke-kun…"

The man's body fell on the floor.

Sakura fainted in his arms.

Madara sighed, the man's head splattered against the concrete and blood spread at Sasuke's feet - although something he had seen many times before, it was a fucking sore to clean up.

"Tell Riku we're going to get it cleaned up before anyone sees anything," Madara spoke to the guard that had followed them, "—dispose of the bodies, and make sure that they have the entrance closed _off_!" he snapped. The guard nodded and left the room, leaving Madara with the petite doctor. For a moment, he watched Sasuke speak with Shisui, eyeing the unsuspecting male while the other men started the process of cleaning - a small, proud smirk graced his lips.

With dark eyes he swept over her face.

Gently, he brushed the bangs off of her warm forehead.  
"You made a mistake, Sakura."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update! I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't forget to leave a kudos/comment to let me know what you think~


	7. Protection

**_  
Past, pt 4_ **

 

* * *

  
  
_Feudal Japan_  
 _Intermitten Village_

The air stifled the people within the room, beads of perspiration ran down the backs of the men that followed their leaders, prepared to die but steadily watching the two clan heads that sat across from one another.

"What are you doing, Madara?" Hashirama Senju struggled to keep his voice level.

Madara — by all means could silence a room with a single glance, but he had never had the ability to shake the fiery resolve of Hashirama, and who he had once believed had been an ally of sorts was now a shell of a liar.

His fingers ghosted over the sheath of his katana.

"I told your younger brother the terms of Sakura's retrieval, it seems that he didn't take me seriously — but that is figurative for a clan that hosts nothing but liars."

The Senju bristled unhappily, "what are you talking about?"

Madara grasped the scroll in his back pocket and placed it evenly on the table, "read this, my old friend."

With a steady hand, Hashirama opened the scroll.

The silence in the room was deafening, but the Uchiha waited — eyes caste in contempt for the people that had scorned his own, the continuous lies that fueled the pit of hatred between two clans could have come to an end, but he could see beyond minuscule friendships that had deterred his fate.

"Where did you get this?" Hashirama set down the scroll, his jaw clenched uncharacteristically — with years of sparring with him Madara knew he had been right after all.

"Koji village. I'll admit it took me a while to figure out why you chose such a place to hide delicate information — but it wouldn't make sense for you to risk the lives of those at home, would it?" Madara's voice constricted, men on either side of the room preemptively reached for their weapons.

Itama stepped forward, "this is ridiculous — he burned the villages in our ward! The information in that scroll doesn't justify—"

Hashirama raised his hand to silence his younger brother, "—Indra was a liar and we both know that," he shot at Madara.

"Was he? Then explain to me why there's a village on our eastern border with Senju blood?" the raven haired male stood up, sizable anger swelled within the room.

"I don't know."

"Let me explain this to you clearly, Hashirama—" Madara slammed his hands on the table between them, "— _your_ clan eradicated an eastern village within Uchiha territory, subjugated _our_ people to torture and killed the men and children while raping our women. The Uchiha may be ruthless on the battlefield, but we don't belittle ourselves to the levels of pathetic rogue groups," a cursory laugh emitted from the heated male, "—and then proceed to lie about it."

If there had ever been a moment where the Senju's were stilled into silence, Madara reveled in the experience, "—this was never about the girl, was it?" Hashirama stated.

"It was, until I was tipped off about Indra's scroll — I thought that perhaps peace could be achievable between our clans in our youth, but your clan does nothing but parade yourself as saints and continually tarnish our reputation whilst holding secrets — and let's not forget that Indra was murdered by Ashura."

"—We **_can't_ ** continue this cycle of war—"

"We will," Madara echoed, "—and it will be over once I kill you, Hashirama."

Itama lunged forward with his blade drawn towards Madara.

Chaos broke out within the room — light and dark clashed in the meeting of swords that consumed the hall. Madara drew his sword until his men pushed him back — a layer of loyal men stood between the clan heads, cries of hatred spewed from the lips of angry men. Years of coiled anger emptied into the brawl.

Madara's eyes met with Hashirama's.

A lifelong understanding between friends split the foundation of their trust.

Their clans had forced the two impressionable young men into believing that their system, their beliefs and understanding of the world were superior, and for a time as children they rejected the notion that two parallel worlds couldn't be peaceful. Excited talks on willowy mornings high above the clouds in the mountains they spoke of peace — of a communal village where both of their clans could come to terms and the bloodshed would end.

Hashirama called back his men to retreat — today wouldn't be the day for their battle.

On that day, they both knew one of them would die.

xox

_Senju Manor_   
_West End_

_They arrived under the blanket of moonlight the next night._

Sakura had her arms wrapped around Tobirama's stomach, head resting gently on the back of his shoulder, his furs tickled her cheek — but Sakura felt numb and entranced with the conditions of her escape. Into the long hours of their travel, the talking had stopped and she had dazed in and out of unconsciousness. Tobirama remained stiff, and painstakingly all Sakura could think of was how this could have been avoided.

She wasn't worth this.

_Nothing_ was worth the death of innocent people.

Sakura stirred behind him when he reared the horse to a stop.

"Tobirama-sama," a guard nodded towards him and the gates opened to reveal a grandeur palace.

Sakura held her breath, astonished by the magnificence of the land — the gardens encapsulated the front of the building, a lake shoveled itself in the glimmering moonlight at the base of the estate, circled by stretched and towering pine trees, she couldn't believe how beautiful a place could be.

Or that such a place existed.

They entered the grounds quietly.

He helped her off of the horse and kept her hand in his own — eliciting a small gasp from the pinkette.

"Are you alright?" he questioned her.

Sakura kept her gaze away from his, unable to formulate the correct words that could express her regret for causing all of this, "it's my fault," she murmured softly.

The soft breeze surrounded them, a stable boy grasped the reigns of the horse, squeaking himself past the intensity of the couple, Tobirama waited for him to depart before letting go of her hand, "this has nothing to do with you," he corrected her.

She followed after him when he turned away from her and began to lead her into the large estate, "—but it is! If we hadn't planned my escape, then Madara wouldn't have done any of this—"

"Uchiha Madara is a disgusting figurehead that has no morality for anyone other than himself and those sickening Uchiha's — it doesn't matter if it were you or someone else trespassed onto his land, he was looking for an excuse to break the treaty—"

Sakura shook her head, "he's not like that! It's only when—"

Tobirama whipped around to face her, his eyes ablaze with anger, "what are you talking about? Are you _defending_ him?"

Sakura froze, the ferocity of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, "…no, but I—"

The white-haired male calmed himself and took a steadying breathe, the small quake of terror in her eyes impaled a soft part of him, "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, "—after everything that he's done to our clan, the thought of him sickens me — my brother departed earlier this morning to speak with him about the treaty. The lives of those lost last night…" he paused in his tirade when a soft hand skimmed the length of his chest.

The young woman offered an apologetic frown, "—I think I should go back."

A newfound fear jostled her nerves and sent her stomach spiraling.

She didn't want to tell him.

Tobirama shook his head, "I'm not taking you back to him."

The thought of the children that lost their parents, the fires that burned down homes and _memories_ — all because of a dispute and temporary peace that had been unraveled by her decision… "I have to," she murmured softly — tears gathered up in her expressively bright eyes, the Senju couldn't understand her tears…or _why_ she would offer her freedom once more.

Somewhere within him, he didn't want her to go back for possessive reasons.

"No, you don't," he said with a hard resolve, leaving little room for her to argue.

Sakura glanced around the empty entrance, in the darkness her courage gathered — if he couldn't see her face, then she could tell him. "I…I wasn't just a servant," she whispered.

She bit her lip, the twist of confusion in his face under the guise of the moonlight pained her, "…I was his concubine."

Silence fell between them, engulfing the illusion that the Senju had envisioned of the young woman. Less than a servant, less than a worker, less than a hound keeper — she spread her legs for their enemy, night and night again. Her body had twined with his own, cloaked in his blanket of dark locks when he claimed her and _marked_ her as his own.

Instinctively, her fingers traced over the marks he had left on her collar - hidden beneath her cloak.

He remained silent, tears fell and slid down pale cheeks, "when the rogue group tore apart my village, they sold me to Madara a few weeks later…I tried to resist…But I couldn't," she silently cried, upset with herself and her selfish decision that cost the lives of innocent people.

"I'm selfish — I wanted to escape, but I didn't think something like this would happen — where I would endanger other people…Where I would endanger you or your brothers when you've helped my father so much," she hugged herself, "I should have told you before…"

It hurt her to see his passive face stare down at her, "…I'm sorry."

He would send her back.

He would send her back and this would all end.

Or he would kill her — thinking she could have an Uchiha baby sitting in her belly.

Nothing worse than a bastard to rival another clan - especially if it were to be a male.

It would be fair, considering all that has happened since her departure.

Instead — the white leopard reached forward and brushed a stray tear from her face with his thumb, his hand cupped her head. Pink, silky tendrils caressed a calloused hand that had seen too many years of bloodshed. His red eyes softened at her admission — confusing Sakura into a shocked silence. "Tobirama-sa—?"

"I don't care what you did for that man — You're under my protection now," he comforted her, Sakura felt light — almost transcendent, "—I made a promise to your father that I intend to keep."

It didn't make sense, and it left her confused to wonder why this man was going to such extraordinary lengths for her considering that she had been used by Madara - the man he claimed to loathe wholeheartedly.

Her heart skipped, a nervous flutter that had touched her before reminded her of the day Madara had taken her to visit the ocean.

_"_ _Do you think the sand ever gets tired of being pushed by the water all day?" Sakura mused, she gripped a handful of sand and let the millions of grains pass through her fingers, lost in amazement — the ocean had been something of tales, a place her father had promised to take her to one day._

_Madara glanced out to the horizon of the water, smirking at her childish question, "—do you ever stop asking ridiculous questions?" his tone touched on playful._

_Sakura glared at him, "they're not ridiculous — I just don't believe you have much of an imagination."_

_The Uchiha gripped her arm and brought her closer to him, "I think your imagination serves us both well enough."_

_A small smile graced her features, "I'm glad, Madara-sama."_

_He kissed her softly, the taste of salt caused her to murmur happily against him, lost in the gentle moment with the cold war general — she nearly forgot when the water trudged forward and rolled over her feet, the frigid water forced her to squeak in shock, he lifted her upwards in his arms to save her from the offending cold, "…thank you," she huffed indignantly, embarrassed with herself._

_"_ _Sakura, do you want to write to your father?" he offered her._

_With a gentle gasp, she stared at the handsome face that could only belong to Madara, "…he's alive?"_

_He walked her towards the dry sand, though both were opposed to letting go._

_"_ _I was able to find a contact that knew of your father — if you'd like, we can schedule him to visit. Until then, I thought you'd appreciate being able to write to him."_

_Tears surfaced, undiluted tears of happiness at the sentiment, the man she missed most — learning that he was still alive nearly choked her, "you did that for me?" she whispered._

_Madara set her down, but she remained attached to him, "I told you before that you belong to me, and as such — I want you to be happy under my protection," matter of fact, he wasn't one for sweet words that dolled her or swept her away, but in the months where they shared their deep affection, Sakura believed that these moments had stolen and transformed her previous contempt to admiration and awe for the man._

That day, he took her on the beach, hidden away beyond his men — and for a moment, she believed that this would be her haven, that she could live with him happily.

She toyed with the pearl brooch in her pocket.

"What if he continues?" Sakura asked Tobirama, unable to live with herself if anyone else died at the cause of Madara's wrath.

Naively, she would never understand the intricate, complicated web that had been weaved between the two clans - long before her presence had made a small drop in the well.

Unknowingly, she would become the rain that washed over the web.

"My brother will kill him before that happens."

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold_   
_Eastern Perimeter_

"What do you plan on doing?" Izuna sat at the table across from his brother, both men drank the sake offered to them in the fiery night, they tipped back the substance — Izuna was restless, itching for battle with the clan he loathed while his brother sat back in deep thought.

Madara stared outside, a night of memories — the faces of his eldest brother's stayed rooted in his mind — too young to have been in battle at the time, he remembered the face of his father Tajima when he returned with one less son — cursing the Senju into the long hours of the night and the howls of pain his mother would cry knowing that death had taken her children from her.

"We plan tomorrow — we need to take their western stead and reclaim the villages they destroyed years ago," Madara said among the flicker of the fire place that heated the room.

"Father will be returning tomorrow, I'm sure he'll be pleased with your decisions," Izuna lamented.

Madara kept his eyes trained outside on the cherry blossom tree on the hill, remembering the gentle laugh of the woman that had become a ghost in her absence, the compound seemed empty amongst all of the men that had followed him here, and he cursed the younger Senju that stole her from him, "—not all of them."


	8. Don't Question the Devil

**_Present, pt 4_ **

* * *

 

  _Mirago Lounge  
Kyoto, Japan_

**"** Are you going to tell Sasuke-kun that she's here?" Shisui questioned his superior, the doctor remained asleep on the couch, pink hair splayed across her body — with the chaos from Sasuke's initiation from earlier, he didn't think that Madara would be bold enough to invite his cousin's fiancé to watch the scene unravel.

Call it good intuition, but a small sense of foreboding tensed up his shoulders — although it didn't take a genius to understand that most of Madara's motivation towards women were purely sexual.

Madara lit his cigar, "why are you concerning yourself with it?" he mumbled aggressively, the cigar perched itself between his lips while he expertly inhaled to catch the flame, the trail of smoke twirled between the two Uchiha's — Shisui shook his head and glanced away.

"You really think Sasuke-kun is going to be alright with you making his fiancé watch him blow some fucking guy's head off? They've known each other since childhood and got engaged in college — are you  _trying_  to make her hate him?"

The thought of Itachi's grim set smile didn't set well with him.

Madara chuckled, "always the voice of reason, aren't you?" he inhaled deeply, keeping an eye on the woman on his couch, he swept his eyes over her exposed stomach and felt something stir within him, halfway imagining the soft skin that lay beneath her clothing and his hands coursing over her skin "—I know our lovely cousin Itachi wouldn't approve of my decisions, but don't sit there and think that you can question me,  _Shisui,_ " he finished darkly, annoyed that his fucking cousin still held a presence in the room when Itachi had abandoned them years ago.

Shisui sat down on the couch and rubbed his jaw, "just tell me what you want with her — you want me to call Mei? I know she caught your attention for a whi—"

"I have different aspirations now."

Shisui couldn't believe him, "what?  _Sleeping_  with  _her_?"

For being his most loyal underling, Shisui never questioned his decisions — he even held face with Izuna when he got out of line, and he was the only member of his clan to perch himself on his shoulder and keep his anger in check, but there were limitations to his patience.

He chose not to respond.

Instead, he took another appreciative drag of his cigar and flicked the ashes at Shisui's feet.

"Anymore questions?"

The younger Uchiha pursed his lips and grabbed the bottle of sake from the table and tipped it back, it wasn't any of his business — he could squawk into Madara's ear all day, but ultimately he had to have faith in the decisions that his clan leader made — he had brought him to where he were now, the vague memory of a darker time  _before_  Madara brought him to the upper echelons seemed like a hazy picture he had seen once.

The guard at the door had little time to react before the doors were kicked open by Sasuke.

"Where is she?!" he growled once he spotted Madara in the corner.

Shisui choked on his sake.

Madara smirked.

"Where's who?" Madara asked his subordinate.

"Why did you bring her here?!" he seethed — true anger rarely consumed Sasuke, and it had always been a question of  _what_  it would actually take to rise the raw emotion out of the usually cool tempered male.

Sakura stirred on the couch behind him.

Madara sat on his seat with the cigar hanging between his index and middle finger, watching with a keen interest as Sasuke rushed forward, "are you really questioning my decisions so soon, Sasuke?" his voice dropped cooly, chilling the room with an effective stare.

The guard by the door restrained the younger, angry Uchiha.

Sasuke fought against the guard wildly, "—what the _hell_  do you think you're doing?!"

"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura shifted on the couch and peered over Madara's shoulder.

The calm voice of the singular woman in the room forced the men to stall.

"Sakura," Sasuke watched is fiancé from afar, holding her gaze captive with his own, a silent plea for her to listen to him.

Out of reflex she wanted to run to him and gather herself in his familiar arms, but an assault of memories forced her insides to twist.

_The guns…Sasuke…The man…_

The color visibly washed from her face and she covered her mouth, suddenly remembering the man and Sasuke's finger on the trigger — the  _effortless_ way he killed that man. The blood, —  _oh god —_  the blood. As a surgeon she was intimately aware of the human anatomy, she was immune to most gore, but seeing someone's head being shot off in close range — the way his head splattered across the cement - she felt like vomiting.

The mere  _act_  of it scared her.

"Sakura," he repeated, voice thick with worry. Madara motioned for the guard to let him go and Sasuke walked forward steadily, watching in trepidation as his fiancé recalled the events that had transpired before she fainted.

Before he could reach her she recoiled and stared at the different face of the man she had fallen in love with.

The look of  _apathy_ on his face.

Who _was_  he?

He reached forward to calm her —

" _Don't_  touch me!"

The men in the room watched the quarrel.

"I have to tell you—"

Sakura kept her station in the corner of the couch, refusing to look at him — anger began to bite at her, wanting answers, unbelieving that someone she had grown up with could be capable of  _killing,_ capable of blatantly  _ignoring_ her and snorting  _cocaine_  in their home, capable of  _trafficking guns_.

"—What is this?" she snapped at him, demanding to know — her eyes held the ferocity of a jaded forest when the snow melted off the trees, revealing the brilliant emerald in her stricken eyes.

On rare occasions — a look would flare itself in Sakura's eyes that careened her patients when she felt them slowly slipping away from her, or when Sasuke's parents died and she met Itachi for the first time, hardening her anger towards his brother for his absence when Sasuke needed him most.

Sasuke sunk into himself, suddenly aware he was the center of attention among his clan members.

"You know what this is," he said dismissively, internally pleading for her to understand that they needed to speak about this later.

" _Tell me!_ "

They squared off, Sakura stood up and faced her fiancé, angry and terrified of the person that stood in front of her.

"…My clan traffics guns and cocaine — tonight was my initiation, " he stated with finality — his shoulders straightened, daring his fiancé to rebuke what took place.

The words pounded in her ears.

"And you killed that man…?" her voice shook, scared to hear the truth that had already played in front of her.

"Because he was part of a rival clan."

Her anger sizzled into fear.

Like a fire that extinguished late in the night, Sakura could no longer understand where her loyalty would lie — she would do anything for her fiancé, anything to make him happy and live their lives safely together.

But this?

"So all the nights that you said you were working late - you were here…With them?" she murmured sadly, "you've been ignoring me because of… _this?"_

_"_ I wanted to keep you safe," he ushered, he reached forward to touch her hand, "you shouldn't have been here tonight."

The words were tossed back to the older Uchiha.

Sakura blinked back the tears, she hated crying —  _loathed_  it, but her emotions were never something she could actively contain when it involved the people she loved, "…I shouldn't have," she agreed.

So she didn't witness the shadows of his clan.

Slowly, she took off her engagement ring.

"Sakura,  _don't."_

"I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun."

Before she could change her mind — Sakura set down her engagement ring on the table and left.

xox

In the midst of their discussion, Madara had at first found the situation amusing.

Now…Sakura had disappeared beyond the large doors to their meeting room and with the shut of the wood — somewhere within him he felt a screeching familiarity that unsettled him. A mute silence stayed with the men in the room, and somehow he remembered hearing this before — not from a random woman, but from  _her._

The ashen way her face changed — titilated by her emotions until her eyes glimmered beyond the emerald into a haunting evergreen, she had pushed past his men with her head down.

More silence.

With a small flick of his hand, one of the guards discreetly followed after her.

"Madara-sama! You don't think she—?" Shisui cut in, but the lethal glare from Sasuke zeroed the attention of his men.

Sasuke ran forward in his anger, arm cocked back to punch his clan leader in the face for interfering with one of the few people he allowed into his life.

With a swift expertise, Madara dodged the incoming fist. He grabbed the back of Sasuke's arm and flung the younger Uchiha on the pool table, twisting his arm until it locked behind his back, with his other hand pressed firmly into the small of his back effectively restraining the younger Uchiha— Sasuke struggled to fight against his larger clan member.

" _You_  did this!" Sasuke growled beneath him.

" _I_  invited her here so that she could see  _who_  she was going to marry and what family she would be surrounding herself with, this lifestyle is something you chose for you  _and_  Sakura, you understand?" Madara hissed into his ear, "—after tonight, do you really think this small scuffle between you two is going to keep her safe? She's a  _witness_  to a murder involving our clan, it's required that on the night of initiation, the wives of prospects are here so they become implicated,  **understood**?"

Sasuke stilled.

Madara drew a knife from his pocket and pressed the tip to Sasuke's stomach, "—because I'm an understanding man I'll forgive your childish actions on your night," he said darkly, "—but don't  **ever** think you can question my decisions and retaliate."

Begrudgingly, the raven haired male nodded his consent.

Madara stood, and to even Shisui's astonishment — he understood why it made sense now.

"Now is there  **anyone else**  that has a problem with what I'm doing?" he questioned angrily, twirling the knife between nimble fingers.

xox

_Uchiha Home_  
Kyoto, Japan

Sakura knew she was being followed.

She drew back the curtains and watched the familiar black sedan sit across the street from her house. The events of the night left her exhausted, and after her bath she wrapped her silk robe around her small form, wondering why they would have followed her.

Was the other clan going to retaliate? Did someone see her leave the hotel?

Trepidation quaked around her.

Until she noticed the license plate.

She wouldn't let them intimidate her.

A bubbling anger constricted her throat and heated her face.

With an internal fury that overcame her fear, she rushed downstairs and grabbed a knife.

Hiding it in the sleeve of her robe, the petite woman confronted the car.

In the veil of the night, the car sat still as a shadow.

The driver's side window rolled down to reveal an unsuspecting face.

"—If you plan on using that pathetic excuse of a knife to hurt someone, then at least learn how to hide it properly," Madara teased dolefully.

xox

Her tea sat primly in front of her, after a curious exchange that left her neighbors peering out of their windows to see the commotion of their furious pink haired neighbor yelling at a tall, mysteriously handsome man — Sakura settled herself and invited him inside.

She wanted answers.

Eyes red-rimmed from her crying, she glared at the domineering male to her left.

"I don't understand why you're here," she reminded him.

Madara shrugged, his hair hung effortlessly in a low ponytail, "—we need to discuss a few things."

"What? That your family are a bunch of drug smuggling murderers that got my fiancé involved?" she snapped at him, it was unfair to blame his clan when Sasuke  _chose_  to do this — but she wanted to take her anger out on someone.

He chuckled, soft and low, almost sultry — it felt warm comparable to how she felt.

"Sasuke made his decision when Shisui approached him last year — I apologize if this has come in the way of your relation—"

Sakura huffed, "as if you really care, you were sitting in that exact same spot earlier this week asking if you could  _kiss_  me."

The memory of it felt buried beneath the rubble of everything that happened since then.

"I still hold that request," he smirked, the slightest tilt of his lips and it left little to the imagination as to why women fell at his feet.

Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm not going to involve myself in whatever it is that you and Sasuke are doing — I gave back my engagement ring for a reason, he…chose this for himself, whatever you say to try and convince me otherwise won't work," dismally, her eyes muted themselves on the table looking absently at her finger — a tan line accented the naked digit.

Madara leaned back in his seat — he found it odd that he felt such an inclination towards the girl, any other woman that married into his clan were beautiful in their own right — but every small movement she made elicited something within him.

"I don't think you understand the severity of the situation you've gotten yourself in."

A new sense of dread clung to her.

"What are you talking about?" she murmured.

He wondered how a surgeon could be this naive.

"You witnessed a murder involving my men, it wouldn't be beneficial for  _anyone_  if you decided to open your mouth, would it?" he grinned, and like a cat that cornered its prey — Sakura wondered how she hadn't seen herself being backed into the corner before.

Her finger tips turned white clinging to her glass to calm the budding terror in her chest, "…are you  _threatening_  me?"

Like a fire cracker with a lighted fuse, he could see her itch to explode.

"I would never threaten a woman, but I hope you understand that although you may not be on good terms with Sasuke right now — we will have to keep an eye on you," he finished.

"Why are you doing this?" she murmured sadly, her fuse snapped in half before the flame reached the ignition pit, the weight of the situation left her exhausted and angry — truthfully, she would never succumb to telling the authorities about what she saw — but why wasn't Sasuke here instead?

In a rare instance of morality for the haughty male — he leaned forward and brushed a few strands of pink hair out of her face to flick away her sadness.

Somewhere, the small brush of his fingers against her forehead made sense.

A familiarity.

The scent of cherry blossoms.

A salty ocean breeze.

The chaos simmered and a hum of the past ignited a new flame.

"Ah—"

The curves of his face — the slight way his mouth tilted into a frown.

Like the night she first met him — where his gaze swept her up and held her captive, she felt transfixed and defenseless against this man.

It terrified her.

"I think you need to go," she broke away from him, unsure of herself and what transpired between them.

He stood up to take his leave, he needed to head back and make sure everything had been taken care of, "—call me if you need anything."

xox

Sasuke could feel himself slipping.

He felt it the moment Itachi hung up the phone on him last year — clearly disappointed with his decisions and even further when he had taken the opportunity given to him by Shisui and decided he would follow the course of his clan. He felt himself slipping the night he got into a fight with Naruto that left them both bloody - because of everyone that began to question him, Naruto had been the most persistent.

He felt himself lose his footing when he started to lie. The words found them before he could catch up - when he would come home and see her lying on their bed - hair accented by the streams of moonlight, and he would lie to himself, and lie to her again in the morning about where he was.

The guilt subsided.  
He found a refuge in the people that he belonged to.

Itachi's voice of reason became insignificant in the grand scheme of what he wanted to be.  
He stopped calling his brother.

Along the way of battling the demons attached to him, he had forgotten the familiar face of his fiancé and best friend.

Truthfully, he didn't regret his decision.

Nor did he feel any palpable worry when his finger pulled the trigger.

What he didn't expect — was to see Madara leaving  _his_  home.

Flowers in hand, he walked up to see the dominating Uchiha.

They met on the sidewalk, and it became clear why Madara had taken such an interest in his fiancé — he had been blinded by the allure of his clan, the blood ties that warranted his position in this world, he didn't see the way men looked at her anymore.

Madara saw the flowers in hand, with a snide smirk he glanced back at the house, both men stared beyond the doors - envisioning two versions of the same woman.

"I already spoke with her, make sure she doesn't say anything."

Sasuke didn't respond — he lost his grip on the edge of the cliff.

What would Itachi say to this?

He loved her, and he would never do anything to hurt her  _unless_ it was for her own good.

That night, she threw the flowers in his face and asked him  _why,_   _why_  was he doing this?

He couldn't gather a response.

She threatened to say something.

With his fingers gripping her hair to keep her still, he hissed into her ear, "if you say anything, I'll  _kill_ you."

He lost himself to a new, impenetrable darkness.

That night, Sakura lie in bed next to the man that she loved since childhood, shivering against his warm skin — bruises began to flower across her stomach, intricate and painful — it hurt to move.

She didn't cry — her tears had dried and in their place she began to think.


	9. The Snow Leopard and War General

_Past, pt 5_

 

* * *

 

_Uchiha Stronghold_   
_Eastern Perimeter_   
_Feudal Japan_

The air of the day chilled the compound, spring had broken through the drudges of winter, but there were still days where ice would sit perpetually on branches that were tiring of the cold until the sun would force the ice to slip onto the ground.

Madara stood idly by the cherry blossom tree, staring at the spot that him and Sakura had habituated during the long hours of summer, it had been her favorite place. In the beginning, he found it pathetically cliche that she would choose the founding of her namesake and coloring to be her choice — but even among the chaos within the grounds at the arrival of their clan head, he couldn't escape the memories here.

_—"_ _Did it hurt?"_

_"_ _Get out."_

—" _Why have you changed towards me?!"_

_"_ _Don't ask questions out of turn."_

_—"_ _I think…I may have fallen in love with you."_

_"_ _Love is trivial, you understand that."_

_—"_ _Then I choose to be trivial."_

" **Madara!** "

The towering male blinked a few times and turned to see his younger brother watching him with a hard face, failing to understand the complexities that were his older brother. Izuna knew that his brother thought of the pink haired whore quite often — and his attentions had been near obsessive.

"What is it, Izuna?" Madara glanced back towards the compound — a relative silence had washed over the workers, most kept their heads tucked low since his barrage against the cooks.

"You're thinking of that whore again," Izuna leaned against the tree with his arms crossed. Lanky in stature, his body still held a high degree of flanked muscle — yet not nearly as broad and domineering as Madara.

"I'm surprised you're not fucking one now," he quipped back, his voice teetered on the edge of annoyance.

The younger Uchiha chuckled, equivocally sound and fraudulent, "I already took care of that last night after our meeting, but I'm not going to spend another second thinking about her," Izuna glared, "that woman is a **whore** brother. Yes, she's exquisite with that rare colored hair of hers, but still a _whore_ ," he emphasized — although abrupt and crass with little cares in the world other than fucking and war, Madara understood the reasoning behind his brother's words.

"—Your goals are wavering. We have a war brewing with the Senju, father will be here by midday, and **you** will be the next clan leader. Your attentions can't be focused on a young girl that spread her legs for you — father will never allow it and our people will find it as a weakness if you don't marry into a worthy clan. The Senju already have the Uzumaki to back up their armies — who do we have?" Izuna snapped.

"You think I intend to _wed_ her?" Madara nearly laughed at the proposition.

Yet his brother voiced the concerns that already pressed against him.

A world stood between a lifetime with her.

Madara had made the resolve to stop any romanticism with her after the summer.

With the change of season brought a change of heart. Fall dried the leaves of the cherry blossoms, and the harsh winter chilled his feelings for the girl. He only called on her during the night, spilling himself into her until her skin was red and he succeeded in dissolving her feelings for him.

On the nights where her room had been situated beside his, he would send her away in the silent hours of the night after using her body.

When he would be away fighting for his clan, he would bury himself in other concubines, hoping to fulfill the need that had sequestered itself within him.

He could still hear her gentle cries on the nights that followed his decision.

Unable to stand it, he moved her room to the back of the compound, away from him and his conscience.

Until she gave up.

And spent her time anywhere away from him.

It had been relieving at first.

Yet now —

The image of the white leopard wrapped around her, basking in his glorified sense of a knight saving her lighted a renewed fury within him for those cowering liars.

The war general snapped.

"We have _ourselves_ ," he growled, "and if you're concerned — take up your marriage proposals from those families in the south — but yes, I remember — you're too busy fucking those same whores and drinking yourself into a stupor to bother yourself with responsibilities." He pushed past his brother and shoved him to the side with his shoulder, effectively cutting the conversation.

Izuna narrowed is eyes at his brother's retreating back before stealing a glance at the bewitching tree and spitting at the ground.

" _Witch_."

xox

All men stilled when the pronounced leader of the Uchiha clan finally arrived at the gates of the stronghold — the flag that proudly held the hand sewn image of the _Uchiwa_ fan waved diligently in the air.

Tajima, a man feared for his incredible abilities in the battlefield let himself off his horse — arriving to the compound to issue a plan of battle against their rival clan, something that had been tethered to the story of his life.

Madara kept his face lax, standing beside his brother - the two young men stood proud in the face of the entourage that followed their father.

The carriage in the middle stopped to reveal their mother, prim and beautiful as ever - her raven hair cascaded down her back, a face that had thousands of paintings dubbed in her grace. Dressed in the furs of the season — it was much warmer here than the Uchiha base settled near the mountains in the east, and with that her skin glittered beneath the incoming warmth of the afternoon.

The Uchiha clan leader stepped in front of his sons — if one were to surmise who took after their father, Izuna would be the representative choice, their hair and face matched and they were nearly identical in their demeanor. Madara took after his mother, ideology and appearance all belonged to her — yet his father instilled his war tactics within him from a young age that Izuna could never grasp.

"Madara, Izuna."

The two males bowed in respect, low enough until their father motioned for them to stand up right once more, "I suspect we have a lot to discuss," Tajima moved along — with no accordance to not having seen his sons in little over a year.

"Madara, Izuna — come to the meeting room."

" **Wait** ," their mother announced.

She smiled up at her children, Madara leaned forward to help his mother up the stairs — she reached them and gently cupped her older son's cheek, smiling wistfully at the young boy she remembered sitting at her bedside listening attentively to her stories, "my beautiful son," she murmured happily.

Madara felt something within him tug painfully tight.

The same feeling that ached and allowed him to latch onto hope as a child that maybe there could be peace.

xox  
_Senju Manor_  
_West end_

Sakura sat impatiently by the dying embers of the fire.

Tobirama had forbidden her from leaving his quarters on the premise that he needed to discuss with the others what needed to be done, Hashirama would be arriving later that night and she had suggested that perhaps this time she could be of more use as the resident doctor's hand than a maid.

_"…_ _I have plenty of experience from helping my father, I think I could be of use there," she halfway pleaded with him. After her horrendous experience at the other compound, only one imploring eye felt better than dozens of chattering women._

_"_ _I'll have to see, it usually isn't becoming of a woman to help the medics—"_

_Sakura narrowed her eyes, "I wouldn't think that your clan clung to such barbaric and outdated beliefs, especially in preparation for war."_

_Tobirama looked perplexed, if not by the sudden disdain she held for what he said — but by the conviction in her voice._

_"..._ _I'll speak with the medic."_

xox  
_Uchiha Stronghold_

"So you found the Koji scroll?" Tajima held the presence of the table.

Madara handed over the scroll, mind mulling over its contents.

Tajima read through the information, his grim set face accentuated by his upturned frown — until his brows became taut and a rivaled anger brimmed on the horizon of his speech, "so then there is a providence within our lands that is mixed with Senju and Uchiha blood?"

The war general laid out a map for the men to look at, "yes — according to Indra's reports, it seems that they were keeping this area—" he motioned towards the western villages decorated in the north that harbored on the edge of Senju territory, far enough for them to not know about this information, but still within their ward, "—Hashirama claimed it to be a false report made by Indra, but we must remember that Indra had been murdered by Ashura before this information came to us."

The Uchiha heads around the table simmered angrily, many of the men barely learning this information.

"And this was during the warring states period?" one questioned from the end of the table.

"Likely," Tajima assumed, "Indra is my great grandfather — two generations later and we're barely learning about this incident."

The past sunk its teeth into the men present within the room.

"By now we have a gap — that province is filled with the grandchildren of rapists and murderers!" another one of the generals growled.

Tajima kept his face firm, "understandably, we have a rich history with the Senju ever since Ashura killed Indra — and even before that, they have steadily worked their way to subjugating our people — this is the proof we have been needing to keep our goals steadfast," the clean leader announced.

"And what of the Uzumaki?" Izuna questioned, "with Hashirama's and Mito's marriage — they have double the men we have and a rich agricultural system to last them through the next winter."

Madara pointed towards the rogue lands on the map, "if we move quickly, we can cut off the supply lines between them — we still hold a much larger territory, and the river lands stand between them. We need to cut off their supply—"

"And what of the western rogues?" one of his men spouted.

"They die," Madara said simply, "thieves and bandits know better than to cross an army."

"Madara," Tajima cut in, "I suspect that you understand a marriage alliance will be in order soon."

The war general remained passive, "to who father? No clan will be sufficient enough to supply us with what we need — the Yamanaka and Nara are within our territory, but mere hunting clans with such a small population—"

"You're forgetting the Hyuga in the North. They may be far, but their trading routes and ample supply of men and women rivals that of the Uzumaki — more so considering they're far richer in steel."

Izuna huffed, "I hope you're able to convince him father, he's resistant to marriage."

The prospect of the Hyuga being a potential alliance hadn't crossed Madara — considering how far north they were it almost seemed like an impossible match. A ferocious anger began bubbling in his chest.

"I have already contacted them, they will be sending their daughter eastward within the month and we will have a wedding before summer arrives. By then, we can safely assume the war will be at the fronts as Madara explained earlier."

He refused to acknowledge the plans of his future.

Pink accented the edges of his vision.

"So you'll be bringing the daughter of a notable clan through a war trodden area?" Madara mused inexplicably.

Izuna glared at his older brother, "see, father?"

"Silence, Izuna!" Tajima snapped, "learn more respect in the presence of your elders and brother before I force you to leave."

Tajima turned his irate attention to his eldest son, "what is this? Are you still opposed to the idea of marriage?"

Madara felt the piercing gaze of his fellow clansmen, the same men he fought in battle with, "this is a discussion for later, father."

"No, we'll decide this now. You _will_ marry. In the face of war you're going to serve your clan's duty and marry the Hyuga's heiress. **_I_** as your clan leader will not hold any objections so you can peddle your way fucking through whore houses without the possibility of a legitimate heir—"

"He still thinks of the pink whore," Izuna ratted once more — Madara remembered the disconnect his brother and himself shared once their father was present, and before when they were children a simple tussle that left Izuna beaten and bruised would suffice…but in front of their clan leaders he wanted nothing more than to shove his fist into his face.

"The Hyuga are cowards that have stuffed themselves safely in the north for centuries - why do they suddenly find our clan appealing?" Madara refused to acknowledge the facet of marriage, not now.

Tajima's eyes darkened, remembering the incident and discussion after hearing the rumors of the servants.

He ignored Madara's even claim, "...I thought I told you to rid of her or I would have her _killed_ ," his father tensed darkly.

The men within the room kept their attention concentrated on Madara's reaction.

"She's gone," Madara reinforced, "the Senju have her."

"Good — it's pathetic a mere whore is being discussed at this table. I don't need some concubine confusing you further when you have other issues to focus on."

Izuna sat smugly beside him, the war general kept his face level.

Snickers among the room further propelled his anger — cursing his younger brother and father.

"Now," Tajima ushered towards the map, "shall we begin?"

xox  
_Senju Manor_  
_West End_  
_One Month Later_

The young woman wrapped the bandages around the arm of another soldier — a layer of perspiration decorated her brow, when she had offered to help as a medical understudy — she hadn't expected to be trained by the resident medic in the manor. Heromi was a peculiar old man, he still held the valor and tenacity of a young man — but the heady stubbornness of a bull that older men usually suffer from with age.

For the past month she had fallen into the enclaves of helping the men that returned from the fighting that sprouted on the borders — she had at first offered to be sent to the front lines, wanting nothing more than to follow in her father's footsteps, but Tobirama forbade her.

In the long days of being taught by Heromi and the midwife (which happens to be his wife) — Sakura's mind was preoccupied with her duties.

For a moment, she forgot about her recent history.

She forgot about the man that stole her purity and a part of her.

Until one night when she overheard Tobirama speaking with his brother in his quarters after their recent scouting expedition, she had gone to greet Tobirama on his return when the mulled conversation caught her attention.

_"_ _Madara is set to wed the Hyuga heiress —"_

_Hashirama cursed mildly under his breath._

_Sakura left quickly after, a confusing sense of relief, fear, and guilt perpetuated her thoughts._

_That night, she fell asleep with the feeling of him on top of her while her fingers toyed with the pearl brooch._

"Sakura," the level and equally familiar voice of Tobirama broke through her spell.

"Oh — Tobirama-sama," she greeted with a happy bow — the soldier sitting beside her lowered his head.

"Once you're done here, I need you to follow me," his gruff voice always sounded intimidating if she didn't know him better by now.

"Of course."

He led her to the edge of the river that dumped itself into a waterfall at the upper end of the property lost in the forest — Sakura usually sat herself on the rocks and freely swung her legs on the days where work was short, a little reprieve in her days. She had taken Tobirama once here before after she had come across the gem swept away in the large trees.

"I still find it fascinating I grew up here and didn't know of this place."

Sakura shrugged and sat herself on the rocks near the edge, wistfully peering over the edge into the basin at the bottom, "I'm sure you were busy, as the second son to a formidable clan I can assume you've always had a lot of responsibility."

Unsure whether to sit beside her or not, he found her to be one of the most confusing individuals he had ever come across.

He sat beside her.

Sakura's feet swung idly, enjoying the brisk breeze that surrounded the emptiness within the forest.

"What is it you needed to speak to me about?" she inquired, the smallest tilt of her head in curiosity compelled him into a newfound silence.

An etch of worry crossed her brow, "Tobirama-sama?"

He had never done well with women.

His attentions had been focused elsewhere.

He grasped the small bracelet from inside the pocket of his hakama.

Petite in size, he had found it sitting proudly at a merchant booth during his last voyage eastward.

The caravan had been filled with exotic goods — but the simple, small bracelet caught his attention. Pink gems decorated the black lace, the moment he saw it there had only been one wrist he could envision it on.

He cleared his throat to calm the unsettling nerves within him.

"Here," he offered her the bracelet, forcefully keeping his eyes trained dutifully in front of him.

Sakura peered at the item in his large hand — the sound of the waterfall silenced her gasp.

"For me?" she asked dumbly.

Tobirama gripped the bracelet, "yes, for you."

Shocked by the sudden offering, Sakura timidly grasped the jewelry and ran her thumb over one of the pink gems.

"Th-thank you, Tobirama-sama…" truthfully, she didn't understand the sweet gesture. A degrading sense of humility overcame her, knowing that he knew her past, "…I couldn't possibly except this — it's too expensive," she murmured.

A crossed look overcame him, "it's usually in the _best_ interest of those on the receiving end of gifts to accept them."

Sakura blushed furiously, "of course…But—" she couldn't help but compare this to the days when Madara would return and offer her gifts from his conquests.

" _But?_ " he raised a curious brow.

Sakura settled herself and smiled softly to herself, " _thank you_ — really, this is beautiful. It's just…don't you think any _less_ of me?"

She had nothing to offer.

No family, no lands, no purity, and extremely limited knowledge in medical practice.

Nothing to offer but a spot in his bed.

Unless-

Sakura quenched that dread. He was nothing like Madara, a calming energy always encompassed him. She enjoyed their talks, and even found him devastatingly beautiful — but little of her existed without revolving or relating to her previous master.

Tobirama grabbed the bracelet and gently strung it on her wrist.

"Truthfully, I was upset you kept that information from me," he began. They both eyed the bracelet decorating her pale wrist, "but I've found enjoyment in spending time with you. You have a… _different_ outlook on life."

Sakura ducked her head and laughed demurely, "I'm quite odd, aren't I?"

Tobirama chuckled, "I find your quirks… _endearing._ "

"You're the first to say that."

Sakura glanced at the white haired male.

The memory of him killing the Uchiha men that attacked her sat at the forefront of her thoughts.

When he was on the estate, he found her each day and they would take walks — slowly, the summer was rolling along — a sense of newfound security had found her. Each fortnight, Tobirama would tell her the status of her father.

She wasn't clueless enough to realize that the younger Senju divulged his attention towards her — and she kept herself to the outer chambers away from the curious eyes of the workers, choosing to spend her time in the woods or with Heromi — stuffing her face in the scrolls he offered her.

Sakura refused to be _that_ servant.

The one that found their way into the bed of their masters.

The whispers still surrounded her.

Although entirely different here than the Uchiha compound, there were women that helped themselves to the Senju men each night — she had purposely kept herself away from Tobirama's quarters during the night hours.

A part of her didn't want to know.

But such a prestigious man — no matter _how_ noble a clan found the promise of a women's warmth in bed.

A thread of jealousy constricted her throat at the thought.

"Tobi-sama," she coined the nickname in their private time, "why did you give me this?"

Somewhere, in a distant memory of his childhood he remembered the image of a young girl with pink hair and extravagant viridian eyes. He remembered the sound of her father's voice — as a child himself he could see the hazy memory of her playing in the grounds of her village, romping around with the other children and losing herself into the forest while he remained with his family, tied to the thread of responsibility and curiosity.

He remembered watching her, much shyer than his older counterpart — the muffled discussions of his father and mother when they would visit her village.

The memories invaded him when he saw her again, dressed in her thin yukata that barely covered her breasts, standing atop the cherry blossom hill waiting for him.

Perhaps she forgot.

But he didn't.

He stared at the diamond on her forehead.

Hashirama enforced this knowledge when he had asked him if it were a weird dream or a hazy truth in his memory.

_"_ _Brother, do you remember why we would visit Mito's childhood village with father and mother?"_

_Hashirama glanced up from the scroll he was writing on, "—what brings this question?'_

_Red eyes pierced the face of his brother, "you don't know."_

_His elder brother laughed heartily, "I'm afraid I don't. Father never allowed me into the meetings."_

_Tobirama sighed resolutely, "are there scrolls? There has to be some sort of written record of what they discussed."_

_After years of being as close as they were, the clan leader understood his younger brother better than most, "you're wondering because of Sakura," he stated._

_He remained passive, not wanting to divulge his intentions, "I remembered seeing her when we were younger, is all."_

_A gentle hum of remembrance encumbered Hashirama, "unfortunately, I never found anything — only her father would remember."_

_"_ _Do we have any word on where he is?"_

_"_ _No."_

xox

"Tobi—?"

The snow leopard blinked back his daze.

"You're more dear to me than you think, Sakura."

The young woman felt her cheeks redden.

The sound of the waterfall surrounded them — gently, she leaned her head on his shoulder.

Pink tendrils tickled his neck.

He would be going to war tomorrow.

She peered at him happily — yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her.

His hand reached forward to cover hers.

That morning, he kissed her tentatively as a goodbye.

It felt strange to her, she didn't want to believe a good natured soul could overlook her nights in bed with his enemy. Sakura couldn't understand _why_ the younger Senju felt inclined to help her - or why he dared dote any affection towards her. Nor did she understand why a part of her felt inclined to keep their hands enclosed, refusing to let go of him and his fate.

Somehow, the cherry blossom felt the unspoken words in his actions.

She understood that he made a promise to himself that she would not be apart of.

"-I will be heading east to kill Madara."


	10. Arrival

_Present, pt 5_

* * *

 

 _Ichikaru Ramen_  
_Kyoto, Japan_

"Maa, maa Sakura-chan! I haven't seen you in so long!" Naruto beamed from beyond his obtusely large ramen bowl — happily slurping its contents in a state of refined happiness that she would never understand.

"Well since the gala — although you _did_ come late," she reminded him pointedly.

The man-child grinned apologetically — only in the way that Naruto ever could.

"Yeah, I fell asleep early and Hinata got home from work late so we ended up rushing to get there," he tipped his bowl back to finish the entirety of it while Sakura sat numbly with her chopsticks — having only taken one bite of her food.

Keen to her moods, Naruto tilted his head and frowned, "what's wrong, Sakura-chan? You haven't eaten any of your ramen."

Sakura put on a dimly falsified smile, "mm, I've been so busy at the hospital lately — I'm just not very hungry today."

The bruises on her stomach since the incident two nights ago left her sore and unable to really walk around without a grimace on her face, but Naruto had asked her to lunch after months of not seeing him and she didn't want to pass up the opportunity for a ray of sunshine in her life.

He wasn't convinced.

"Is it teme? Because I swear if he's doing _anything_ to upset you I'll hurt him," for emphasis, he pointed his chopsticks in the direction of their home.

Sakura laughed and waved him off politely, "it's not Sasuke, don't worry. I swear I've just been busy." To reiterate her lie, she took a bite of her food to avoid answering her best friend. In truth, she wanted to spit out everything that had occurred since the Gala — the shooting, Madara, and the incident two nights prior. Since then, Sasuke had been missing —

She didn't call him this time.

The relative silence of her home had been deafening — the gunshots and yelling constricted her thinking, even now she felt the tip of her nose begin to redden. If she started speaking now, the dam would break and she would be a sobbing mess here at the ramen stand.

"Sakura-chan…" Naruto murmured sadly, "why are you crying?"

"Huh?"

Her hand touched her cheeks and a wetness dampened her fingers…Slowly, the tears had escaped without her realizing it. Had she been crying this whole time? The doctor ran the edge of her sleeve along her eyes to hide her face from onlookers, including Naruto.

"It's Sasuke, isn't it?" her best friend stated.

Sakura laughed, attempting to fend off the tide of emotion that threatened to sweep her under it's rip current, drowning her until she ran out of strength. She hated crying, but her strength was beginning to wane in the path of what happened.

"No, I promise it isn't."

_I'll kill you._

"I know you're lying," a maturity overcame Naruto in the most unlikely times that always startled Sasuke and herself, a seriousness that rivaled that of her fiance's "…I won't force you to tell me, but I know something is going on with Sasuke. I've ignored it because you guys seemed so happy still…but I'm not just going to sit here and believe that whatever is making you cry is because of your work."

Sakura had nothing to refute.

She couldn't tell him, so instead she remained silent — aware of the pain that covered the expanse of her abdomen and the purply blue colors that decorated her skin. Idly, she tucked a strand of pink hair behind her ear out of habit.

Naruto pursed his lips, unable to penetrate through the glass wall that had been built between their trio.

Unkept anger flared within him towards his best friend — the one person that shared his pain in growing alone had blocked him out, and now did something to the woman that had done everything in her power to help keep them together.

"It'll be ok, Sakura-chan," Naruto offered her his brightest smile, "I promise."

xox

_Uchiha Home_

Her fingers tore into the dirt in her backyard, the soil filtered through her gloves as she searched for the weeds that plagued her backyard. She bit her lip to distract herself from the pain, but other than losing herself in a good medical textbook, Sakura found little enjoyment in free time unless she was actively doing something.

She rubbed her forehead with the back of her sleeve — a fresh layer of sweat covered her, the new soil in her garden felt inviting, and for a moment the lily bush she was planting distracted her from the glaring issues in her life.

"You know, they say white lily's represent purity — but I've always appreciated sakura blossoms much more in the spring."

Literal Sakura knew that voice.

"Is that so?" she murmured, purposely keeping her back to him as she continued planting.

"Sakura," his thick voice rolled the syllables of her name.

The gate latch in their front yard unhooked itself.

"You need to leave," the doctor mused — she wanted to move, but any quick movement would notify him something was wrong.

"I hope you understand that you're giving me a full view of your ass?" Madara chimed evenly, appreciating the view of her ass propped in the air as she bent over covered in soil.

Sakura sat down on her legs promptly, refusing to look at him.

"Why are you here? Haven't _you_ done enough already?" she bit at him, at the sight of his beautiful face her life had imploded and splattered against the walls.

Madara sat himself on her front porch, looking unnatural in his tailored and overly expensive suit contrasted against the backdrop of their simple home.

"I wanted to see my soon to be in-law."

" _Ex_ in-law, or did you forget the moment where I gave Sasuke my engagement ring?"

"How could I forget?" he situated himself to lean back against the bench, the size of him alone took up most of the seating.

She dismissed his feigned attempt at banter, part of her feared him — another part loathed him, and a very secular part of her wanted nothing to do with the man.

Slowly, she lifted herself to her feet — careful to ignore the throbbing in her abdomen and the stark pain in her chest. Keeping her face still, she felt the intense probe of his gaze, watching her carefully dance around the pain.

Successful in her administrations, the doctor took her gloves off and procured herself to go inside, "you can leave now."

He didn't say anything, but halfway to her door he stopped her.

"What did he do to you?"

Sakura stilled, suddenly very aware of the body near hers - gently, he grabbed her elbow to help her balance. She didn't say anything, how could she? Her eyes were muted on the door, and silently they both entered into her home.

"Why are you doing this to us?" she muttered absently.

This feeling of naivety, of feeling weak and ashamed — it wasn't her. It never was.

She expected him to dismiss her question.

"Tell me what he did first." Plain as day he could see her struggling to move around, Sasuke had been present for their meeting that morning, but had remained silent in his perpetual brooding state, the haul last night had been successful — and tonight Sasuke would be getting his mark.

But.

Sakura wanted to throw a fit, wanted to retaliate from his gentle touch — because of _him_ this happened.

Instead, she lifted her shirt to reveal the dark, purpled bruises that littered themselves over pale skin.

"I won't be saying anything to the police… _You_ can tell him that he doesn't need to worry anymore," she ground out — jaded eyes kept themselves trained on the Uchiha head.

He marveled at her audacity, at the simple fact that she could speak so fiercely to him although her pain castrated her movements.

A simmer of anger flared through him.

"Did he _threaten_ you?" he inquired.

Sakura huffed, clearly displeasured by his presence and self-explanatory questions, "I know you're not that daft."

Truthfully, he had expected Sasuke to quiet her in other ways — to speak with her and tell her that the foundlings of their underground network and what they dealt with was more important, how she would be indicted with them.

A lone wolf that subjugated his fiancé like this didn't sit well with him.

"I'll speak with him," he announced intrinsically, clearly upset.

A spark of fear shot through her. "No! I don't want anything to do with Sasuke right now, so _please —_ I just want to continue my life and work without having the hands of your clan tethering me."

He pitied her then. How could she think it would be so simple?

Madara, the man that didn't concern himself with morally sound gestures felt inclined to help her.

"Come here."

With little protest, he led her to the couch.

"I can't stay sit—"

" _Stop_ ," he commanded, Madara kept his hand neatly at the small of her back. Gently, and with a tenderness that she didn't believe he possessed — he helped her sit.

The insufferable man disappeared into her home, Sakura had to admit she had been pushing herself. As a medical professional she should know better, but the sound of him starting the tea kettle and shuffling through her fridge alarmed her — but she felt too tired to call out to him.

When she began to concern herself with his absence, he arrived in the doorway with a large blanket and a platter.

The sweet aroma of her honey tea circulated around them. He grabbed an ice pack from the platter and sat himself beside her — slowly, he set the ice pack on her stomach. Sakura grasped the item that riled and soothed the expanse of her abdomen.

He draped a blanket atop of her and handed her the mug.

"I don't expect for you to think I'm anything more than what I claim to be," he kept himself at a respectable distance from her on the leather seats, "—you're beginning to understand the intricacies of our clan and what we do, but _everything_ I do — I do it for the sake of my clan and all the men and women that have given their lives to this family."

Sakura peered at him cautiously, understanding the weight of his words.

"Sasuke came to us last year. He wanted nothing more than to join his fellow clansmen that Itachi kept him from. At the time of his parent's death there had been an issue of lineage, and as you know — after Itachi's disappearance you saw how alone Sasuke was."

The days where Sasuke would keep himself thrown in his barren apartment and want her and Naruto's company to stifle the loneliness draped itself in her memory.

"—I'll admit he's becoming more aggressive, but the work we involve ourselves with requires an…bravado, of sorts."

"You mean killing people?" Sakura snapped, amidst the calming tea, her temper flared, "—I'm **not** an idiot, and I don't appreciate you thinking that I am. You traffic guns…You're gang affiliated while having consorts in the police force - I work for a _hospital_ , although indirectly you don't think I haven't heard about the legacies of the _Uchiha_ name in the board of directors? Or let's talk about politics…Your clan name is familiar there too, isn't it?"

Madara whistled appreciatively, "impressive! And where do you think this information will get you?" he baited.

The ice pack doefully reminded her, "nowhere," she spat at him, and with a tired sigh she glanced at the domineering, devilishly handsome man.

"I already told you I'm not going to say anything. I wouldn't do that to Sasuke," she murmured.

Madara quirked a brow, curious as to her loyalty to a man that abused her, "I'm assuming this stems from a place of fear? Because if so—"

"No," she denied adamantly, "because this isn't the Sasuke I grew up with. Ever since he decided to join… _you,_ he's changed."

No fool for observation, he could see the way her shoulders visibly drooped, the delicate way she gnawed on her bottom lip in contemplation. Their relationship had been deeply rooted in their dependent nature on one another…And yet, he couldn't understand such a stern devotion. Or he could…He simply didn't understand _her_ devotion.

"I have done nothing but offer your _fiancé_ ample opportunity to progress himself within the company and our external affairs. All I requested was his loyalty and time — everything else has been of his own accord."

"He _killed_ that man!"

"Would you rather have watched _Sasuke's_ head get blown off? Because those men would have no issues eradicating everyone within my clan."

With no refute, she felt listlessly tired.

Bringing the mug to her lips, she sipped the tea to allow her time to gather herself. A part of her wondered why she was hosting this discussion…But as of now, Madara was the only one she could extract this information from.

"I still don't understand why you're here. I **won't** be sleeping with you, if that's what you're after," she said pointedly.

He smirked, the fire within her intrigued him far more than her legs spreading for him.

"How about a truce?" he offered her.

"A truce?"

"You interest me, Sakura. I find our conversations fulfilling and it's a nice reprieve from the constant heads of black I deal with."

Sakura snorted, "I'm sure you tell this to all other women that _interest_ you."

The Uchiha hardened himself, "I'm many things, none of them in the contextual sense of good — but I'm no liar."

The severity of his voice grounded her, and she found herself blushing like a green girl having talked to her schoolyard crush for the first time. "I—"

He stood up to take his leave, "I hope you take the time to rest and recover — I won't be mentioning you specifically — but Sasuke won't be touching you anymore, I'll see to that myself."

The small woman on the couch tucked beneath the large blanket didn't look like someone that saved the lives of children — she looked at him with beckoning, simmering eyes that calculated the genuine tongue of his words, "you have my number if you need to contact me."

And he left.

Leaving Sakura with a rueful, dubious sense of guilt.

xox

Two weeks later, and Sakura found herself in much happier spirits - or as happy as she could force herself.

The swelling and bruising had diminished considerably.

She returned to work the following Monday.

Ignoring the prodding questions of her co-workers, she went with her days.

No Uchiha's.

No Sasuke.

The random call from Naruto.

Ino came by happily a few evenings after she returned home.

She threw herself into her work, her mind catapulted itself into the things she _could_ control.

Until nearly a few days later, Sasuke finally returned home.

She had been reading and editing one of her colleague's entries into a medical journal about the offset of tumor growth near the spinal cord when the front door opened and closed.

Footsteps followed, Sasuke appeared in the doorway, hands stuffed characteristically in his pockets.

Elegant as the day she met him — his eyes were cold, waiting for her to speak first.

Sakura spared him a glance, but turned her back towards him and continued her editing.

He disappeared into his study.

The doorbell rang shortly after.

Sakura opened the door to see a multitude of other Uchiha men arriving at her home.

"Another meeting?" Sakura questioned Shisui who stood before her with a small smile and open arms.

The smell of alcohol clung to the men.

This was her opportunity.  
She wouldn't get herself wrapped in this mess - but she would _learn._ Learn as much as she could so that one day when the the opportunity introduced itself, she would greet it and get out.

They left upstairs, Madara hung in the back until the others were safely away.

"Has he done anything?" he questioned her politely.

The man that had shamelessly made it known he wanted to sleep with her seemed like a league away from this man that questioned her welfare. "No, he hasn't."

Madara reached forward, his nimble fingers tenderly touched her chin — his thumb rubbed over her bottom lip, "good."

And he left too, his sizable form leaving upstairs with his men.

His touch had left an imprint on her.

Sakura glared after him — why didn't she pull away?

xox

Sasuke sat with his fellow clansmen.

The sake made it's way around the table, they cheered for another successful haul on part of him. He tipped the substance down his throat — the familiar sting had become a daily occurrence with them. Madara had him working endlessly, days spent securing the district of Kyoto and overseeing the build for their new headquarters — and then resuming their underground work once dusk hit.

"Sasuke, I must say that you're impressive — thanks to him we were able to lynch the fourth street district back from the Yakuza," Madara goaded — Shisui cut the cocaine with the fine blade beside him before passing it to Sasuke.

The younger Uchiha snorted with his rollled up bill, sucking in a breathe through his nose to revel in the focus that cut through the cloudiness of sleep. "Thank you, Madara-sama."

Sasuke didn't miss the way that through the celebration his clan leader left not once, not twice, but _three_ times to disappear in what he could only assume was speak with his fiance before returning and sitting himself at the head of the table, a small smirk dancing on his lips. He was no fool, and he kept his eyes ingrained on the way his clan leader commanded the table - his presence held the bar of attention, so much that even Sasuke found himself forgetting the unbecoming attention he doted on Sakura.

It unsettled him.  
It angered him.

Being handcuffed between the man that controlled the clan, his _people_ , where he finally felt welcomed with a sense of belonging and respect with the inability to confront the way he watched her.

Sharp eyes glared at his clan head.

But he refused to think any more of it.

Sakura, if anything was more than loyal - that night he had hugged her close to him in their bed although she continued to shiver. He wrestled with the guilt that consumed him and the need to make her understand for her own protection.

He stared absently at his wrist — the tattoo was beginning to itch, Sasuke had little idea at first that most of his clansmen had differentiating tattoos hidden beneath their suits that revealed their success within the clan. The thick stripes now wound up his arm for the successful hauls — on his back, the _Uchiwa_ fan in black bold with individual tomoe's surrounding the symbol signified his initiation.

Curiously, he had asked Shisui the purpose of the tattoos — and with anything that dignified their allegiance, it was met with an answer of loyalty and dedication.

He had secured his fate when he pulled the trigger.

In confirmation, the needle chained him to his decisions.

Briefly, he had seen Shisui without his shirt - and the man's body was decorated like a shrine with the markings of their clan.

Now he craved the needle.

Craved for the success.

He would earn the dagger that dripped from their symbol.

xox

 _Haori's_  
_Downtown Kyoto_

Sakura sat with Ino at their favorite restaurant.

A simmering plate sat before her and Ino continued to talk about herself and Sai — Sakura remained relatively quiet, nodding and murmuring in agreement to whatever her best friend needed her to agree on.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a dark head of hair in the corner with a beautiful woman. Out of the box, pristine, gushing at all the right times socialite that fluttered her eyes in appreciation for the man with his arm wrapped around her.

They sat at a booth, and from across the room Sakura could see the woman's hand run over the man's thigh secretly beneath the table.

Sakura watched the exchange, the man whispered into the woman's ear, causing her to giggle shamelessly at his administrations.

They were a sight to be seen.

"Oh! Isn't that Uchiha Madara?" Ino sat a little straighter and fixed her breasts to sit a bit higher.

Her bombshell of a friend always held the attention of men when they were together — ever since Ino grew her sizable chest she wielded her weapons to her advantage, Sakura never had the capability.

The woman giggled again, causing Ino to scowl, "what a slut. Look at how she's throwing herself at him!"

Sakura tilted her head, confused and humored by her friend, "Ino why do you care? You have Sai, y'know — your _fiancé_."

Ino shrugged her shoulders, "doesn't mean I can't look — and speaking of fiance's, how are you and Sasuke doing?"

It dawned on Sakura that she hadn't discussed anything that has happened with Ino for the past few weeks. Her blonde best friend already had her issues when Sasuke and her first got engaged, and she made it known that she didn't care for him.

"We're doing better."

_Lies._

Ino raised a speculative brow, obviously not believing her. More inclined to Sakura's feelings than most, Ino continued to prattle and wait for her friend to tell her the truth on her own terms, "Hmph, well that's good. Although I still don't think it's right he practically ignores you for his job now, I never liked the fact that he chose Naruto over you so many times, and now his job-"

Sakura tuned her out and watched Madara out of the corner of her eye.

If only Ino knew.

He ran his fingers over the woman's arm enticingly.

Like the first night when she met him — she could feel the smoldering look.

A sharp tinge cut into her chest.

Madara turned slightly towards her, giving her an ample view of the scene — with the woman whispering in his ear, the insufferable man winked at her.

A deep, annoying blush covered her cheeks.

_He's doing this on purpose._

She needed to leave. A sense of clarity finally welcomed her, and any sight of him only served to remind her of the event's in the past few weeks.

With an exuberant need for fresh air, she rushed Ino so they could leave before she became even more conflicted.

xox

 _Uchiha Madara's Complex_  
_Kyoto_ , _Japan_

Madara thrust into the woman beneath him in an effort to expel the need for the pink haired woman that left him frustrated with each one of their conversations.

Her cries echoed around the room, nails leaving small moons on his back — "ah, Madara-sa!" he felt himself slipping close to the edge, but instead of the lovely blond beneath him — everything changed to the bright-eyed, silvery pink hair that held a ferociousness that he felt inclined to grasp.

"S- _Sakura_ ," he grunted — expelling himself into the condom with a flash of white at the thought of _her_ walls milking him instead.

Needless to say, the woman left shortly after with the slight notion that he actually cared.

xox

_Uchiha Home_

Sasuke watched her tend to the garden from the seat in his car — he wanted to confront her, wanted to make her speak to him. Wanted to hear her familiar voice. Wanted to pull her close and inhale the scent of lilac that trailed after her, but instead he could only watch as the river that grew between them swamped itself with rain and made it impossible for him to reach her.

He looked at his reflection in the rear view mirror.

He sported a black eye from his best friend.

It hadn't been the first time that Naruto and him had gotten into a fight.

 _"_ _Who do you think you are teme!"_

" _Stay out of it_."

Their anger flared the moment Naruto had confronted him as to why Sakura had been crying.

It led to Naruto getting an unexpected swing on him — and now here he sat, brooding in his afflictions.

He bit back his pride and walked to the garden.

"Sakura," his familiar voice made her freeze. "I need to talk to you."

She didn't face him, didn't acknowledge him, but continued her work.

" _Why_?" she finally asked, her voice shivered against the strength she was trying to maintain. He could see the way she was more mobile, and everyday he slugged forward, focusing on a double edged sword that teetered between what he wanted to become, the monsters tucked in his closet - and a life with Sakura that halfway resembled normal.

"I want to apologize."

 _Face me.  
_ _Please._

His fiancé stabbed the soil with her shears and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her glove.

_Stop._

_I don't like it when you cry._

"Go away, Sasuke."

Had she ever told him that before? No. If anything, her relentless stubborn tenacity forced him to shake off the dread within him. Many times, after his parent's death - after Itachi abandoned him to work in the states, he would trail the walls within his barren house - cursing the silence that followed after him. The night terrors would wake him up in the long dark hours, he refused to sleep some nights after witnessing the battered face of his mother. He wanted to mourn after his father, but the condescending way his father would berate him throughout his life only made it worse with how much he missed him.

 _"Why can't you be like Itachi?"  
__"Don't mind your father...He's just really proud of Itachi,"_ his mother would try to defend his father.

The neglect he felt stemmed before they left this world. He would cry, calling his older brother to vent - but only get a voicemail or the typical, " _I'll call you back later, I'm busy."_

Never good enough.

One night - before their college exams, a year after his parent's death. It had been raining and the soft patter of rain washed over his apartment - Naruto had just left, and she was helping him with arithmetic. Maybe it was the soft lighting, or the way she absently chewed on her pencil as her mind swept over the numbers in front of her, or the fact that she had always put _him_ before herself. Somewhere between his rash decision and the way her lashes fluttered - he found himself on top of her, kissing her for the first time with her soft mewls beneath him. It had been awkward, and she teared up when he first entered her, but the way she gave herself to him - kissing him along his jawline and wrapping her fingers in his hair, he knew that it would be her.

He leaned forward, trying to reach for the last thread of sanity in the form of the woman he planned on marrying. His fingers grazed the edge of her shoulder, and her flinch drenched him with the ice of his decisions.

" ** _Don't_** touch me!" she coiled and glared at him, tears peppered her viridian eyes, the shears pointed directly at him, "the next you touch me will be the **last** time you have hands!"

He took a step back.

"Sakura—"

"I want _nothing_ to do with you!" she didn't care if the neighbors heard, she didn't care if he ran away, she didn't care — her temper overcame rationality, "you _hurt_ me! Get away from me," tears strung down her cheeks, "I hate you right now," she cried softly, still pointing the shears at him.

Uchiha Sasuke snapped.

"And what have you done? Have you tried to ever think about _me_! Or your selfish reasons to be with me! Have you tried to understand what I've been through? Why I always felt alone? Or did your romantic vision of just being **with me** suffice?"

Sakura gasped.

He left, anger balled his fists and he slammed through the entry of their home.

 _His_ home.

He punched the dry wall on his way to their room, tearing their pictures together down on the walls, the glass splattered against the floor. Anything that served to remind him of their mutual relationship boiled his anger.

Sakura ran into the house, "Sasuke!" she yelled.

_Why?_

Why was he doing this?

She could hear him ravaging through their room, she entered to see the room completely torn apart. "What are you doing?"

A gun flickered in the sunlight on the bed, and the sight of it made her still for a moment.

She could see him tossing all of her things on her bed. "You're leaving," he announced to her.

Sakura felt her fiery temper flare dangerously.

" _I_ won't be leaving."

He threw everything of hers in the dressers onto the floor.

"Stop it!" she growled at him, pushing him aside so that she could protect her items.

Sasuke pushed her again, effectively launching her onto the floor — about to raise his voice when a booming voice entered the proximity of their home.

" _Sasuke!_ " the voice of Shisui echoed around them until he grabbed Sasuke to restrain him. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?"

The newest member steamed with unrestrained anger, Sakura had fallen to the floor amidst a pile of her clothing.

Sasuke shook Shisui off of him and stormed out of the house, brushing by Madara's shoulder at the entry of their home.

Shisui sighed and shook his head, aware that this escalation was part of his doing, "I'm sorry…Sakura-san, I'll go talk to him."

The doctor stood shakily and glared after his retreating form, "don't bother. I'm leaving."

His frown deepened, "I can't let you…"

"I know!" she snapped, "have your guys follow me for all I care, I just need to leave this house."

She left the ruined bedroom to see Madara idly in the hallway picking up their pictures, "how did you two know to come here?"

"Because we heard a rumor that he got into a fight with that Uzumaki kid a few hours ago and I figured he would be coming here next," Shisui supplied with a small, apologetic frown, "I need to follow him."

Shisui left quickly, leaving Sakura and Madara alone in the hallway of her home. She sighed and leaned her back against the hallway to regain some of her composure. She noticed the holes in the walls, numbly shaking her head. "He was never prone to getting angry like this before."

The large male continued to pick up the large pieces of glass scattered across her floor, "perhaps you didn't know him as well as you thought."

His words nipped at her, hollowing out the fact that maybe her love for him had been blind to these small indicators of who he was beneath.

She hated crying.

The sense of unforgiving weakness that enveloped her took it's toll.

"I guess not," she rubbed at her eyes one last time before surveying the area around her. She watched him set down the large shards of glass aside and place the picture frames neatly on her end table.

"Please, you don't have to clean—"

He handed her a handkerchief from his suit pocket, the red material hung idly in his fingers.

Hesitantly, she grabbed it and brought it to her eyes to stifle the ripples of emotions tearing through her.

_Don't cry. Don't cry._

She felt arms wounding themselves around her, gingerly enough as to simply hold her while she pressed her face into his chest, heart wounded enough by the man that she had stood beside for years — wondering _how_ he had changed like this. Her fingers curled into Madara's suit, and although this would have been the least fitting man for her to extract comfort from — he was the only person present.

In their embrace a weird sensation climbed over her.

The scent of blood.

An infant crying.

The rushed sounds of people directing orders.

The sense of dread and exhaustion crawled up her back and she stared up at him.

He kept her close, the world tilted over them — and Sakura realized that he felt it too.

xox

_Downtown Kyoto_

The phone rang several times before a tired voice answered with a simple, " _what_?"

"I think we have a lead," the caller watched a young, tall male speak adamantly with another — both with the typical dark hair and pale skin that befit the Uchiha.

The voice visibly perked, "you found them?"

Piercing red eyed remained focused on the duo, "yes, I'll trail after them a bit longer before they notice me."

"Grab their plates, that fucker thinks they can start funding a new district under our noses without us noticing," the voice gripped at him.

The male flicked his shades down, obtuse white hair covered with a cap.

"Understood, Tobirama?"

"Got it."

He hung up then, waiting a few more minutes for the duo in the car to drive a safe distance away before he followed them.


	11. Black and White

_Past, pt 6_

* * *

  _Senju Manor_  
 _West End_  
 _Feudal Japan_

Dawn broke over the horizon, Sakura watched with a rigid heart as the men gathered their horses to follow their leader. Hands clasped together nervously, the banner men of their clan waited proudly with the Senju sigil waving distinctly above them like a beacon of their fate.

Tobirama had broken the news that he would kill Madara — she was adamant against it.

She remembered the endless stories of her previous master in battle, he would be in the midst of battle — and some claimed he resembled the God of War.

Or was the God of War.

And it terrified her to think of what may happen to the white haired knight that she had become otherworldly attached to.

She waited off to the side, away from the eyes of curious men.

"I don't want you to leave…What if-?"

He touched her wrist gently, words weren't the snow leopard's forte', his subtle actions spoke volumes compared to anything he could say — she didn't expect him to toy with the bracelet and place a chaste kiss on her forehead, "you don't need to worry about me."

_But I will._

Gently, she placed her hands on his chest — fingers idly tracing the metal of his armor, "promise me?" it was naive' to have him promise something he couldn't be sure about, "—promise me you'll come back alive?"

This time, she leaned forward on her tip-toes to reach his lips, hoping and praying that he would understand that she needed him to return — in turn he wrapped his arms around her, pink lost in a sea of white as his entire frame consumed her, their kiss spoke of their goodbye — and if it weren't for his men waiting, he would have picked her up and taken her away from this mess, from her past, and the war to come.

Begrudgingly, they pulled away.

Tobrirama never usually struggled with self-preservation, but this time he had to forcefully tear himself away behest failing at his duty. Sakura offered him a smile, not before thinking of _something_ she could possibly give him as good luck.

An idea blossomed, and she grasped the pink ribbon holding her hair back, "it isn't much…but please come back."

Tobirama tilted his lips in a genuine form of acceptance, briefly their fingers touched one last time before he tied the ribbon around the strap of his breast plate — holding the thread of the sakura blossom close to him.

That morning, she watched him and his men ride into the distance.

xox

_Field of Fire_

They had laid siege to the border grounds of their respective territories.

Swords clashed against one another, the squeal of horses dying at the blades of men intermixed with the cries of the dying and battle screams of the soldiers on the field. Hundreds of bodies decorated the ground, the smell of blood clung to the air in the bellows of smoke that surrounded the battlefield.

Madara Uchiha stood in the thickness of battle, his sword cutting down the Senju in a dance of blades that remarked on his excellent marksmanship and years of wielding a sword. A god among men, he tore through the bodies that charged him — a soldier lunged forward with his spear, and Madara sidestepped to grasp his dagger from his hilt in a swift movement to stab the male in the throat.

Adrenaline and fire pumped through his veins, he could always tell the last remnants of battle were occurring when a hollowed silence rang through the air — call it intuition, but countless battles taught him that when the cries died, and the bodies stained the ground, it would be over. Madara stabbed his sword through another Senju, the blood stained his steel — the desperate cry for life echoed around him.

He knew.

Call it an assumption, but this shouldn't have been so easy.

He surveyed the area around him, dying men called for help, others cried for their loved ones — and many lie in the stench of their death.

_It's over._

His men began cheering.

The sigils for the Senju were gone.

"Where are they?" he growled to himself. This wasn't the entirety of their vanguard, it couldn't be.

A cold sweat of realization trickled over his shoulders.

" _Fuck._ "

They only used a small portion of their army to confront his men.

Only then, did he realize that the white leopard was nowhere to be seen, nor his younger brother Itama.

"The stronghold…"

" _Izuna!"_ his younger brother stabbed his sword through a straggler thirty feet from him before glancing at his elder brother.

"They're attacking the stronghold!"

xox  
_Uchiha Stronghold  
Western Perimeter_

Tobirama was drenched in crimson.

They had managed to break through the defensive barrier - the short hours of dawn had provided them with ample opportunity to advance on the stronghold without a strong defense. By now, the men that he had sent to fight the Uchiha's main forces would be dead — but their decoy and sacrifice provided them with the ability to take the man siege of defense that belonged to the cursed clan.

As a general and seasoned fighter, part of him felt guilty sending thousands of men to their death - but as they continued their march through the western borders, he could see where the Uchiha had decimated miles of field and villages all in the name of their anger.

By the time they reached the midnight stone castle, carved out by generations of the black haired beasts, the patrol men were ringing their bells — calling out for the defenses to arrive. His archers came forward, not giving them the time to adequately form their lines along the cement walls.

He would be a fool to admit that the structure was something easy to get to.

Standing atop a large ridge, they made the fortress nearly impenetrable.

Even now, they stood at the doors.

The Uchiha soldiers were overcome with the sizable amount of men he brought.

Hashirama stayed, Itama would take the brunt of their forces as a defensive line — Tobirama offered himself to lay siege to the stronghold. This was his honor, his duty — to stop the madmen that bore the Uchiha name and cut off the heads of the venomous snake that situated themselves in the east.

Beyond the tide of bodies that were building, he could see Tajima in the distance — the man that killed their father, the same man that had no issue killing babes at the breast in the name of war. As much as he wanted to avenge the pain Sakura had been subjected to by Madara, he needed to kill the clan head.

Avenge his father.

He ran towards the man — his men bearing the Senju crest provided him coverage from the other foot soldiers. A glory basking in white, Tajima had only seconds to turn around to meet the deafening blade of Tobirama's katana.

The two men squared off, each holding off the strength of one another — the sound of death around them wasn't unusual — it consumed the battlefield in a test of strength and will that harbored on each end of their clans.

He remembered the way Tajima struck his katana through their father's back when he was still a green warrior, Hashirama had tried to stop it — but the quarrel between their families in a ploy to come to agreements had ended when instead of coming to peace agreements, Tajima began the fight and stabbed their father outright.

His brother had always been foolish when it came to these men.

They didn't care. They had no loyalty. No honor.

After their father's death — Tobirama swore an oath to himself that he would avenge the man that raised them, the peace agreement between their clans came under a reluctant agreement between Hashirama and Madara years after his father died - and he still couldn't forgive Hashirama for such a contrived notion, it led to endless nights of them fighting one another on the subject.

He would kill them.

All of them.

With the upper hand and raw strength, the white leopard was able to grasp a hold of his other katana with his left hand - Tajima noticed with only a fractal of a second, attempting to dodge out of the way, flinging Tobirama off of him onto the ground.

Like his namesake, Tobirama righted his feet and twisted off the ground — his blade stabbed through the under pelt of Tajima's armor, his hakama slowly soaked in red — crimson eyes kept their strain on the way Tajima realized his fate — slowly, he twisted his katana, until blood seeped at the edges of the clan leader's mouth.

" _Father_!"

Tobirama turned to see Madara standing at the edge of the field, black stood against white.

He noticed the way the Uchiha leader succumbed to death. Watched the way the life left his black, pitiless eyes.

The wrath of the men that followed in pursuit of Madara and his brother would swamp them with their forces.

They needed to leave.

Father's death avenged, the white leopard and his men needed to escape — they wouldn't take the stronghold

Not without hearing Tajima murmur a small, " _Marise…_ "

The clan leader fell, and with no time to recuperate, Tobirama called back his men, " _retreat_! To the south!"

They needed time to gather, he could see his banner men leaving south — he lugged past a sea of black, a speck of white with a blade that cut through the neck's of men. An arrow skimmed his shoulder, he bit back the growl that wanted to erupt from his chest.

From the distance, he could see Madara hurdling towards him — red eyes strained forward, and his men shifted themselves to leave —- he twisted mid-air to narrowly miss a spear aimed for his chest, with a quick swing he was able to tear down the young warrior, but what he didn't expect was to see the man that destroyed their peace treaty jump down from his horse and graze the skin on his back.

Tobirama flipped around, now face to face with the new clan head that held a world of fury within his eyes.

Their katana's met.

All around him, the majority of his men were being swamped.

He could hear the ringing cries of those that were dying, Uchiha and Senju alike.

The burning embers of the fires surrounding the stronghold quaked with the coin toss of which men would win.

Even through the chaos, both men — a clash of black and white, had fought for years in their own battles, and around them they had a clarity of skill that only a warrior could possess. Because although both men garnered their own legends respectively, there was no better feeling than the adrenaline that coursed within them in the midst of war.

On this day — legend claimed that Madara won because of his brute strength.

Fermenting his status as the God of War.

With an unknown fury after witnessing his father's death, the Uchiha plunged his sword through Tobirama's leg, ending the siege of the stronghold when they saw their leader fall to the floor.

xox

_Dark Cells_  
_Uchiha Stronghold_

They wanted his _head._

In the black cells within the stronghold, Tobirama could only count the days by the sound of the birds chirping each morning and the lone stray of light through the sliver of a crack on the top corner of the cell wall. The bleak darkness was such an inky black he couldn't see his hand in front of him, so he chose to sleep as well as he could with little movement — the wound on his leg was festering. The stench of it alone sobered him each time he woke.

If not by starvation his death would be from an infection.

Madara chose to keep him alive.

The Uchiha clan had called for his death — or a sweet torture to let it ring around the lands that Tobirama Senju had been killed by Madara and end the war.

As swift as his death should have been after avenging his father — he couldn't fault Madara for his choice.

_"_ _You're worth more alive than dead, be grateful I'm showing you mercy."_

xox  
_Senju Manor_  
_West End_

Sakura paced wildly back and forth, like a feral cat anything startled her and she found it hard to focus on the tasks at hand. They should have heard word by now — Hashirama promised he would send someone to tell her the news of his brother, but what she didn't expect was for him to take another portion of their army as a defense along the western perimeter with Itama.

It had been four days — a bird should have reached them by now, anything — Sakura prowled along the grounds when she wasn't helping Heromi, but even the old man could see that the young girl was visibly upset after Tobirama's departure.

"He's a strong man, y'know," Heromi offered her on the fifth night when she was reading through his scrolls, "I've watched him and his brother grow up into fine young warriors."

Sakura pursed her lips, unaware that she had made it so painfully obvious that she wanted his return, "I know he's strong," she murmured absently, her fingers tapped diligently on the wooden table nervously.

"Then why are you worried? Don't you have faith he will return to _you_?" he questioned her, Sakura tucked her head, halfway ashamed with herself for doubting his skill.

"Yes, but Madara—"

" _Ah_ , yes — the legends of Uchiha Madara. How he's a god among warriors? How he's the black panther in a battle field? Or what's the other one…Oh, how he plowed through a field of soldier's with his brother and won single-handedly?" Heromi scoffed indignantly, waving off the preposterous rumors, "Madara is but a _man_ like the rest of us — he may be skilled with a sword but Tobirama wouldn't die at the hands of such a man, not when he knows he has someone to return to."

In turn, she wanted to defend the man — but a sick, confusing part remained silent.

She blushed then, hard and rosette — "thank you, Heromi-San."

xox  
_Uchiha Stronghold_  
_Western Perimeter_

After the fourth day with nothing but water being given to him by the guards — the white leopard found it difficult to focus. The sour, hollowing pain of his stomach that tore through his thinking was beginning to sedate him. This wouldn't be the first time he had been captured, although comparatively this cell was much more bleak, and he doubted he would be leaving the stronghold alive.

He didn't fear death.

As a son, he avenged his father.

A weight of happiness presented itself to him.

Tobirama did, however — fear not returning back home to greet Sakura again.

He could see the silvery pink of her hair in the darkness, and vaguely he dragged his arm up to the pink ribbon that decorated his armor in memory of his cherry blossom.

xox  
_Senju Manor  
West End_

Sakura got word on the seventh night about what happened at the Uchiha stronghold.

She had been administering some sleep medicine to a child when Heromi entered the medical quarters with a grim look on his face.

"What happened?" her voice quivered, and the young boy peered at her curiously for her change of voice.

Heromi set his cane down on the table and sat himself at his desk, rubbing his temple to subdue the headache that was forming, "…we just got a report that Tobirama was captured at the Uchiha stronghold."

Her heart fluttered unhappily in her chest, thundering the blood that echoed her anxieties for the past week, "…but he's alive?" she whispered.

Heromi offered her a pained glance, always the realist — she could appreciate his truthful words, "for now. He killed Tajima, which is the Uchiha clan lead-"

"I know," she interrupted, a cold sweat broke over her skin. Madara wouldn't let him live, he could have killed him by now. There would be no way that her previous master would allow Tobirama to live, especially after learning that he had also been the one to abduct her. Tajima was a ruthless man, and her only interaction with the cold man had been his reaming of Madara at their relationship.

_"_ _I don't want to see that whore, get rid of her."_

Madara claimed to detest the man…but that was sill his father.

Kami, what were they _doing_ to him?

She didn't want to imagine the wrath of Madara.

With a shallow breathe, she gathered herself and forced herself to stand up, "I have to go."

The old man gave her a quizzical look, unaccustomed to a young woman with such a rash personality, "and where do you think you're going?"

She froze, unsure of what her next decision was. She had to go, she had to do _something._ Madara would kill him — and she couldn't sit here knowing that there was a slim possibility of a chance of her helping. If she sat here doing nothing…It would kill her inside.

"What's your plan, _girl_? You're going to steal a horse and ride three days on a war trodden road? By now the Western Rogues have probably torn through the aftermath. And a young woman alone? You'll be sold into slavery within the day. And what of when you get there? The stronghold is a fortress. What does a young girl think she could possibly do other than get caught as a slave for that despicable clan?" the old man shot at her, his voice equivocally teetering between anger and frustration.

Unfortunately, he was right.

xox  
_Uchiha Stronghold  
Western Perimeter_

Madara sat by his mother's bedside.

Marise, the only other woman claimed to rival the beauty of the Hyuga women and Mito Uzumaki.

The ravenesque beauty that married Tajima and raised five boys — three of which were long lost to the grave, parents lost to the constant wars, and now her husband as well. The news of her husband's death reached her the moment it happened — from her chambers she did her best to calm the other women and children in prayer, doors locked as the siege occurred.

She knew marrying this man would have such consequences.

After the Senju were fought off — they brought their clan leader's body to the hall, and there Marise fell beside herself, overcome with grief for a man that was difficult to love — but showed a stark love for his wife.

The sadness from loss drained her over the years, and although still a primal beauty in her older years, her refined nature always made her seem ethereal — and that same woman lay on her bed, her fever uncontrollable.

"Mother…" he gripped her hand, pleading with her to stay with them.

The light within her was fading.

Izuna sat on the other side, both of them had clung onto their mother when they were younger, but Izuna loved the chase of their brother's having been the youngest. The craving for war ran through his blood — whereas Madara would remember listening to his mother's stories about warlocks and mystics, villages tucked away where people could control time, and the beasts that prowled themselves in the far east where she came from.

And other stories, ones that involved peace among clans — peace among humans and beasts.

_"_ _Father says there is no such thing as peace," Madara held the book in front of him as his mother wrapped her arms around him tightly._

_"_ _Did he? Mmm, your father has no imagination." Only a young child at the time, Madara tilted his head curiously._

_She tucked a strand of his wild, long hair behind his ear, "do you believe there can be peace?"_

_The young Uchiha debated about it before answering with a simple, "yes, I do."_

_"_ _Well then? We humans are all the same, we all bleed red. There shouldn't be any reason we can't all live peacefully."_

_He smiled at her then, big and bright — before his father walked into the room with a scowl on his face, displeased with the sight of his son coddled in his mother's arms._

_"_ _What fairytales are you spitting into his ear now?" Tajima shook his head, Madara bowed his head and unlatched himself from his mother._

_Marisa glared at her husband, "no fairytales. My question is why you're putting a blade in my five year old son's hand already."_

_Tajima returned the sentiment, "because he's my son. He's a fighter, just like his brothers. Implanting stories and thoughts of peace into his ear will only confuse him."_

_The matriarch fumed, "he's a_ **_child_ ** _!"_

_Tajima silenced her with a look before turning to Madara, "you want to be a warrior like your brothers, **don't** you?" _

_Madara nodded his head obediently, standing between his two feuding parents._

_"_ _Good, now go on!_ Stop _hanging on your mother's coattails."_

_The young boy scurried out of the room._

_He could hear their arguing through the thick walls of their chambers._

Marise smiled weakly at her two remaining boys, "…don't give me that look you two. I'll be with your brothers and father now."

She looked _relieved_.

Izuna didn't speak, but merely held his mother's hand.

Madara, however — cursed the gods, "just rest mother, you need to rest."

His mother could only weakly reach up and caress his face like she used to when he was a child, "promise me you'll take care of yourself and your brother. Don't fight…" she paused sadly, "I wish I could be there to see my grandchildren," she mused regretfully.

Both men grimaced internally, plenty aware of how much their mother wanted grandchildren to dote on.

They all knew this would be her last night.

Madara couldn't admit it to himself, but he had seen the life escape hundreds of men — his mother was no exception.

Slow goodbyes, a soft kiss on their forehead.

Izuna left, not wanting to be there.

But Madara stayed with her through the dimly lit hours of the night and watched his mother serenely pass away. Her last breathe was quiet, after she closed her eyes the fever overcame her, and he stayed with her body until the morning light filtered through her window.

"Madara-sama…We need to make preparations for the funerals," his father's advisor told him upon entering the room.

The new Uchiha clan leader sighed evenly.

"—And begin your initiation."

xox

Tobirama spewed blood when Madara punched him square in the jaw.

The white leopard spat the blood at his feet.

He had torn into his cell early in the morning, guards dragged the battered Senju into the light, nearly blinding him after a week in the pitch black cells, hands tied by chains behind his back — he was rendered nearly immobile with the wound on his leg.

A rage stewed within the Uchiha.

"Where's your brother?" Madara growled.

Tobirama spat again, refusing to speak.

He could barely hold himself up, but an unfiltered loathing kept him standing — envisioning this man forcing himself upon Sakura and killing his men.

Madara grabbed his katana and pushed it against the white leopard's neck, Tobirama kept his face level, red eyes staring at the Uchiha, a trail of blood raced down his neck, "you won't kill me," he stated with a small grimace.

The Uchiha held the vivid image of Tobirama's sword plunging through his father's chest, "—I don't give a fuck if your Hashirama's brother, do you think you're of any importance? You're lucky I've kept you alive this long." With a swift movement Madara reared the butt of his katana into Tobirama's stomach, forcing him to fall onto the floor.

Breathe knocked out of him, the Senju shuddered and lifted himself off of the floor — only to feel the hard kick to his jaw with Madara's boot.

Black spots danced across his vision.

He laughed after a few, long seconds - a small snicker at the anger that spewed off of Madara's body, "then _why_ haven't you killed me yet? We both know I'm worth more alive than dead — reason why your men haven't snuck to the cells and killed me themselves yet."

The younger Senju had a death wish.

"You don't fear death."

Tobirama lifted himself to his feet slowly, "what warrior does?"

"Well you should. It's going to be slow-"

In that second, Madara noticed a dirty, pink ribbon tied to Tobirama's shirt.

Instantly, he knew.

"That ribbon—"

"Yes, s _he_ gave it to me," he smirked again.

Both men knew who gave him the ribbon.

Only confirming what Madara had assumed.

"I see why you favored her service so much," Tobirama baited, "she tastes _wonderful_."

The raven haired male wanted to stick his sword through his chest — wanted to make him bleed red until the white hair atop his head was bathed in blood, but every advisor within the council recommended against it. He was their trump card, and Madara gladly offered to kill him after his mother's death, in fact if it hadn't been for his men calming the storming rage within him, the Senju would have been dead by now — but the council had been adamant in their decision, praising him for his quick thinking on the field. Once they got Hashirama, the clan would fall, and their retributions for the years of death caused to their clan would end.

Only then.

Madara feigned indifference, "congratulations — you stole a _whore_."

Tobirama struggled to stay standing, if not only to revel in the normally barbaric Uchiha quaking with relentless anger, "the same woman you sought after and demanded from my younger brother?"

The Uchiha surged forward and cracked his knuckles across his face, the Senju fell once more, succumbing to the outward rage, only feebly able to roll onto his side in an attempt to cover himself without the use of his hands, trying to avoid Madara's assault on top of him. Dagger in hand — it was only then that Madara cut Tobirama's face, with a sharp hiss he could feel the blood seeping into his eyes, effectively blinding him.

" _Madara_!" Izuna burst into the room and restrained his elder brother, "—we kill him once we have Hashirama!" he growled, angrier than anyone else at the duel death of their parents.

It took his brother and two more guards to restrain the Uchiha head.

Tobirama remained listless on the ground — the edges of unconsciousness rimmed his vision.

xox

"Here he is, Madara-sama," two of his guards urged an older male forward with dirty blond hair and sparkling green eyes — the male was brought forward to the ground and stared up at the new Uchiha head.

"What do you want with me?" bloodied from working in the field, Madara could clearly see the resemblance between them amongst the grime on the man.

Madara eyed the doctor evenly, "you're from Kanazawa village, no?"

The stranger glanced at the chains on his wrist, speculating whether to answer or not, "—I _was…_ My village was raided by the Western Rogues years ago."

A renewed excitement became the highlight of Madara's day, "and Sakura is your daughter?"

The man paled, visibly shaken by the question, "…you know my daughter?" he pleaded in a small whisper.

"I do."


	12. Fate

**_Present, pt 6_ **

* * *

 

_Uchiha District Building  
Kyoto, Japan_

The sound of a man coughing and gasping for air echoed in the dimly lit room.

"Are you going to tell me about the operation you fuckers are pulling or am I going to have to ask again?" the thick voice of the Uchiha clan leader was razored with the promise of death.

A young man, barely at the legal age to drink coughed up more water, struggling to breathe, tears leaking down his face - a sad sight, really. One would think they would learn to not bother in the mess that was the cocaine trade, but the Yakuza weren't mindful enough to think about who they hired as foot soldiers.

"I-I _can't_ , they'll kill me!" the young male whimpered — his lamentable begging contrasted against the tattoos that were marked on his neck. Madara side-eyed the young male before gripping his hair forcefully once more and slamming his head into the large bucket of water.

"Brother, this pig isn't going to squeal — we might as well kill him now," Izuna drawled out lazily from across the room, dark eyes more interested in his new, glistening gun that had been gifted to him.

The boy's body nearly went still before Madara dragged him back out — the boy threw up and sporadically coughed — the Yakuza's body begging for air.

Ignoring the sage advice of his brother, Madara grabbed the knife from his pocket and flicked it open, pressing it neatly against the boy's neck — causing him to involuntarily shiver in premeditated fear. "Now, _one_ _last_ time — what operation are your superiors pulling? Do you think the Uchiha take it _lightly_ when we find one of you fucking gutter rats is in our district?" he hissed.

He could smell the fear of death lingering on his body, and with the precise amount of pressure, a bead of blood gathered on the blade before dripping on the floor.

"O-ok! I'll speak, _please_ no more!"

An hour later, they had the information they needed.

It didn't take long to get him to confess.

With his mouth now gagged, both brothers stood before the male, perhaps on another day where Madara felt lenient he would have let him walk with a _distinct_ message — but after learning that this pig had killed one of their own in an attempt to find out their trade routes, he found justice unforgiving.

Madara walked over to the male and kneeled down to the shivering, childish looking subhuman, "pathetic," he murmured off-handedly.

Begging eyes pleaded for his life, only to stare into apathetic ones, "you understand you're going to die here, right?"

The eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.

It really was a mercy to slit his throat.

And there in a pool of his own blood, Izuna and Madara glanced at one another before eyeing the dead body before them — understanding the new precautions they were going to have to take, "call a meeting," Madara announced to his brother, wiping his hands with a handkerchief to rid himself of the blood.

"—And make sure they clean this shit up."

Izuna cackled behind him, nudging the pale body with his foot, "glad to be home, brother."

xox

_Ino's Apartment_

Sakura could feel the tension headache build behind her temples.

With a frustrated sigh, she removed herself from the computer.

"Nothing yet?" Ino questioned from her balcony, sipping on her tea — long blond hair spilling over her shoulders.

"Nothing," Sakura groaned unhappily — her apartment search was not panning out like she had hoped. She wanted something simple near the hospital since it would only be her, but everything was either completely full or in a bad part of town.

This should have been expected, Sasuke and herself chose a suburb so they could plan for their family, his new district office had only been twenty minutes away while the hospital sat at the heart of Kyoto, nearly an hour by train or forty minutes by car. "I'll probably need to see a rental office at this point," she admitted in defeat.

Ino pursed her lips and shook her head, "probably, but I really don't mind you sleeping here, forehead — and neither does Sai."

Sakura had spent the last week here with all of her belongings in storage, and as much as she loved spending time with her best friend, she felt like a foreign invader in their home. "No, I need to find something soon—"

"What if you and asshole get back together?" Ino couldn't help the small sneer on her face — Sakura had given her minor details, and even the _small_ tidbits of information she fed her, Ino's resentment for her ex-fiance deepened.

If only she knew the _real_ truth of things — Ino would go to Sasuke with a bat in hand.

" _Trust me,_ we're not."

Ino raised a doubtful brow, "right. You've _always_ forgiven him — no matter how horribly he's treated you. I know we both were in love with him in grade school, but you need to get over this 'saving' mentality, it's not good for you."

She couldn't refute her point — for whatever reason she felt the need to save others, and befriended the two boys in school that needed the most saving. "Well I'm **not** this time, so shut up about it, Pig."

Her friend snorted in retaliation, "whatever — it isn't my fault you don't like hearing the truth."

Hours later, Sakura left the rental office completely exasperated.

Nothing.

Her options for anything relatively close were either in a bad part of town, ridiculously expensive high rises, or small studio apartments where she wouldn't be able to move without feeling claustrophobic.

_"_ _If you can wait until the end of the year — the new high rises that are reasonably priced should be done!" the overly happy old man notified her._

Sakura sat at a small coffee shop downtown fretting over her options.

She _refused_ to go back to that house.

Just as Sasuke had done to her before, she would exit his life completely.

A bus passed her with the sign of a Uchiha Corp. law office.

The reminder served to annoy her — until an idea sprouted in her head.

This wasn't an ideal call she wanted to make, but with a steady breathe she dialed the number saved on her phone.

He answered on the second ring.

"Madara?" her voice felt paper thin compared to his.

" _Sakura_ — this is a surprising phone call."

She knew they had their hands tied in estate property, just maybe she could haggle with him, "I need help with something."

xox  
_Downtown Kyoto_

They met at a lounge downtown, after compelling her case to him — Madara mulled over the request before deciding it would be better they meet in person to discuss.

Sakura was tentative about such a meeting, but at the very least this man had been kind enough to her — although she kept his intention at the forefront of her thoughts.

Each time he arrived into a room, he seemed to keep the attention on himself — heads turned and stared at the famous male, and Sakura sunk further into the plush seating to hide herself from curious eyes. Before he arrived, the waiter set down a drink for him, meaning he must come here often for business meetings if they _knew_ his drink — she opted for water, feeling callously under dressed in her white summer dress compared to the swanky, tight-suited males and females within the lounge.

Once they sat down, Sakura folded her hands in her lap — nervously tapping her foot beneath the table.

Really, she hated asking for favors.

Especially from someone like him.

However, with her back against the wall she needed to live _somewhere_ where she didn't hear Ino and Sai's moans throughout the night.

"So you need a place to live," it wasn't a question — and he leaned back in his seat to hold her captive to his gaze.

Sakura nodded, "I do — I've been searching everywhere but nothing is close enough to the hospital…And I don't plan on buying anytime soon — I hate asking for favors and calling you out here like this…but I know that you might have somewhere—"

" **Sakura** ," he cut her off with a mild laugh, finding her rambling endearing. "Please don't apologize, I told you I would help you if you needed it. As it is, I do happen to have room in my building, and seeing as I hold partial responsibility now for Sasuke's behavior, I would be _more_ than happy to assist you in the move."

She blinked, trying to find the words at his sudden suggestion, "…your building?"

He took a drink of his whiskey, "yes, my building. Though technically it belongs to another realtor — the Uchiha backed the financial aspect of it, and it's downtown — so with one train ride you would be at the hospital within five minutes."

"Wait — the high-rise over there is where you live?" she asked in disbelief — pointing to one of the tallest buildings within Kyoto, one of the buildings that the realtor offered, at the price of her liver for only two months.

He looked bored, "yes, that one."

She should have known. Being one of the most powerful men within a city would entail a rather exquisite type of living, why did she envision him living more simplistically?

Almost comically, her bubble of hope deflated, "…I could never afford one of those."

"Did you not understand? You can live there, costs covered."

Sakura narrowed her eyes skeptically, "and why would you do that for me?"

Madara shrugged, "as I said before, as a clan leader I hold partial responsibility for all members within my clan, including Sasuke. Once he passed his initiation, he is now more than my blood, as is everyone else that takes their vows. As such, what he did to you is unacceptable — I've already had a discussion with him. I also made a promise to you that he would no longer harm you, and I'm not a man to take my words lightly." His eyes were smoldering, Sakura couldn't avert her gaze, finding it almost hard to breathe under the heaviness of his testimony.

"Maybe I don't understand the inner workings of a clan, seeing as it's always been my parents and I — but I am not apart of your clan, and I could never take an offering this big without feeling guilty." She wanted to pull away from the conversation and cut her losses, but their embrace only a week ago still sent an unwavering shiver throughout her.

"You may not have Uchiha blood, but by extension you were a witness to some of the… _Unbecoming_ parts of our business, and at this point I would hope you understand that you will never truly be free of us, as much as that may be to your disliking."

Still as straight forward as before, Sakura found him to be one of the few people she couldn't quickly out-conversate.

It served to irritate her more than anything.

"I've already come to terms with that," she grumbled unhappily, "but it's alright, I'll find something on my own—"

"Now you're being stubborn," Madara quipped, finishing his whiskey. Almost on que, the waiter brought another to the table and turned to her expectantly.

"Uhm, another water please."

"—It's simple, Sakura. You need a place to live, I have somewhere that is close to your work. I hardly stay at my place as it is, so if your worry is _me_ — then please quiet that thought," he offered her.

"That's not—" not much of a liar, she felt like she would be entering the lion's den…Technically, it wouldn't be close to his complex, it would just be the same building. For someone as busy as he was, she could imagine he would be preoccupied most of the time.

The outcomes churned in her head.

Refusing to go to her ex-fiance's home, she relented and accepted.

"Thank you, Madara."

xox  
_Downtown Kyoto  
Residente Bar_

For all intents and purposes, Tobirama was by no means _old_ — but on these changing spring days, he could feel an ache in his bones ever since he had decided to take on this task by his agency.

He wanted to blame stress.

He also wanted to blame the tattoos that littered his body.

"Tobi, did you get where they were going?" his gang leader lit a cigarette between chapped lips.

"I did, and I followed them once again to Mirago — nothing new, I don't know what we're expecting."

"Well those fucking Uchiha have my younger _brother_ — kami knows what that cock sucker Madara's done to him."

Tobirama could see the anger filter through his leader.

Raiden Otsuki was a large, thundering man with a fist of anger. As were most of the bosses within the Yakuza, they held a presence with them that commanded power, Tobirama had learned. Unlike that of the Uchiha, where they had a pyramid style of leadership all beneath Uchiha Madara — the Yakuza were divided into factions, each district headed by leaders that were granted different authoritative power.

Coming into this, Tobirama didn't expect for them to be as organized as they were — but their resources and connections were entirely limited.

Where the Yakuza were _known_ for their dealing and trafficking, the Uchiha were not.

Everything the Yakuza did was public knowledge — but the Uchiha had their people in government, police, real estate, nearly everything had the stamp of approval by the famous name without it outright being common knowledge. In truth, Tobirama had little idea how that name hadn't been smeared yet — and one would think it would be easy to dismantle their system.

Kill Madara, the clan follows.

Yet the Uchiha weren't privy to the normal ideals and laws of men.

Which is why for years now Tobirama ghosted himself under a fake name and joined their opposing enemy.

He would first dismantle the Yakuza and their factions — then proceed to undermine the Uchiha.

No easy task.

Especially when trust in worlds such as this cracked within seconds.

Most days he found it frustrating — and at his hands alone he had done unspeakable things in the name of justice. One for the greater good. Or was it? These days he found it hard to differentiate between the two.

"Do you think he'll rat?" Tobirama asked casually, counting the dirty, laundered money spread across the table.

Raiden shook his head, "he better not — he may be my brother but if he rats, I'll kill him _myself_."

The red eyed male stayed quiet.

Already knowing that the brother was dead, a ghost who's name would be forgotten in the glossary of this rivalry, a young boy no less. Each day, he became more weary — but statements such as this only ignited the burn of hatred Tobirama held for these men.

xox

_Uchiha Sasuke's Home_

He stood at the doorway leading into their room.

The silence was deafening.

For years he was used to living alone — but since he asked Sakura to first move in with him, there had been someone to talk to, someone that asked about his day. He always thought he could beat the silence, the creaks of the home and loneliness that followed.

He couldn't.

He never could.

The house had been cleaned after their last fight, and a few short days after that she hired a moving company and took everything that belonged to her. At first, he hadn't _really_ thought she would leave. They would make up like they always did.

Even still, Sasuke hadn't heard from her, and this house was too big for him.

A part of him weighed the outcome of his decisions. Regret tugged at his heart, and numbly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small container, opened it, dipped his car key in, brought it to his nose, and snorted.

Days of no sleep deciding on their next operation left him struggling to keep his eyes open. His phone had nearly fifty missed calls from Naruto — his black eye faded into a soft lilac and mixture of ugly yellows, but only served as a reminder for the anger he felt towards his blond friend.

For a brief moment, relief flooded through him.

An awake mindfulness that cut into the fog of sleep.

Madara put him and Shisui in charge of securing the relations with the Colombians — because although they had their own labs tucked away in the high mountains surrounding Kyoto and behind closed doors of fancy restaurants unseen to the public eye — the demand for more didn't end. The ports were being opened, and he spent the last two days securing a route for the funneling of more cocaine.

He sat himself on their bed.

Sasuke always found comfort when he would come home and see her sprawled out on the bed — never the most angelic looking woman when she slept, but he would rid of his clothes and crawl in bed beside her, half-asleep she would cuddle beside him, and the scent of her jasmine scented shampoo always lulled him to sleep.

He grabbed his phone.

He needed to call her — to talk to her, to at least _hear_ her voice.

He had her number half dialed before another, more rousing name appeared on his screen.

**_Uchiha Itachi_ **

He waited until the last ring to answer.

"Sasuke," came the hard, angry voice of his brother, "I'm around the corner, I'll be at your house in a few minutes."

"Hn."

With a small grimace, Sasuke hung up the phone and waited.

xox

_Sakura's Apartment  
Downtown Kyoto_

The movers finished bringing in the last of her furniture.

Truthfully, she didn't expect the place to be so _large_.

Already professionally furnished — she felt out of place in such a grand apartment. Settled on one of the highest floors of the building, Sakura admired the view with her third cup of coffee that day. The expanse of the downtown area felt like a city within a city, but she could appreciate the buildings that began to thin out along the edges of the city that faded into rolling plains and the twin lakes that touched the rice fields scattered among the faces of the mountains in the far distance.

Softly, she smiled to herself.

It wasn't home yet, but a cooling sense of calm washed over her when she took a moment to take a deep breathe and appreciate her surroundings.

"Alright, Sakura-san," one of the movers walked up to her with a clipboard in his hand, "— we've already billed you, so please just sign here and we'll be done for the day."

Sakura set aside her coffee mug and signed off on the paperwork with a grateful smile, "thank you so much for handling this on such short notice," she offered and tipped the man, he bowed his head in thanks before leaving with the other men.

With a deep breathe, the doctor surveyed her surroundings.

Madara had been adamant about offering this place to her for free, but with her stubborn tenacity and bull-like resolve, they decided she could pay rent. It was less than half — or less than a quarter of what this place would normally go for, but she would feel _too_ uneasy if she stayed here without paying.

Still, there was the smallest hint of dread about her decision — being in such close proximity to the man that slowly infiltrated her and Sasuke's life, but she decided that if this clan was never going to leave her alone, she might as well control the situation and keep them at a safe arm's length away.

With a determined resolve, she had a few more tasks to finish for the day before she was finished.

A few hours later, there was a powerful knock on her door.

Tied up in the sea of her clothing she was attempting to organize in her new closet, Sakura poked her head around the corner — there were only two people that should know the code to get to her floor aside from the other residents on this level, and for a timid second she half-expected Sasuke to be on the other side.

However, she opened it to reveal the wide set shoulders of Madara and his grinning face.

"Madara?" she half stated, half questioned.

With a bottle of champagne in his hand, he offered it to her, "a house warming present."

Stepping aside to let him in, she grabbed the bottle and eyed the brand, eyes nearly bugging when she noticed the expensive name plastered on the bottle, "—this is too kind of you, I mean — you _did_ offer me the house to be warmed," she murmured hesitantly.

Madara brushed off her comment and stepped inside, "don't mention it." With a low hum of approval, he eyed the renovations she did, taking note that all of the exquisite artwork had been taken down and replaced with family portraits and other very Sakura-like decorations.

"You took down some expensive pieces," he mentioned casually.

Sakura winced as she popped open the champagne bottle, hating the sudden noise of it before glancing at him. "Oh, yeah — I just felt they were a little bit… _Much_ for me."

He chuckled softly, "I take it you're not one for the arts?"

Sakura poured the champagne into two long stemmed glasses after a long search through her kitchen boxes, "not really — I have two left hands when it comes to art."

She walked over and noticed him staring at the _one_ painting she did leave that hung high in her living room above the couch.

Hands stuffed into his pockets endearingly, head tilted back to survey the large painting, the soft glow of the art studio light swept over him — and with his large eyes, Sakura could see his spidery lower lashes and had to admit he was a handsome man, her throat felt dry. She handed him the champagne glass and looked at the piece to occupy herself.

"I couldn't bring myself to take this one down," she admitted.

"I don't blame you," he said. He tipped his glass towards her, and their glasses _clinked!_ with finality as they both took a sip of the alcohol.

Sakura looked at the painting, "what do you think it means?"

For the past two days she studied the painting, with soft brush strokes the artist pulled the audience's eye to the center with outlines of a couple in eachother's embrace. Delicate, pastel colors kissed the canvas in a swirl of pink and black amongst the two lovers on a hill top pressed against a cherry blossom tree. Perhaps she left it because it was a wink to her name, or because she was a sappy romantic at heart, but something within her refused to remove such a beautiful painting

"Two people that are in love," Madara eyed the title, _Fate -Kenji Tairo._ "And they're spending their last days with one another."

He glanced at the young doctor beside him, enchanted by the way her eyes lit up as she looked at the painting and tugged at her full bottom lip in wild curiosity, "I wouldn't have taken you as a romantic," he commented with a renewed appreciation for the pinkette.

"Really?" she questioned with a small laugh, "I'm a sap for romance, especially in books."

"Big reader?" he took a drink of his glass and sat himself down on her couch.

Sakura sat on the opposite end of the hefty furniture, "yeah, I actually have my own personal little library," she stated proudly, pointing to the corner with several book cases she brought from home, "my mother always said that the best gift someone can give you is a book — and that tells more about a person than anything else."

Madara contemplated the words, "so then I supposed my champagne is a rather generic offer," he chuckled.

Sakura blushed furiously, "no! Of course not! I'm grateful for all of this — you really helped me," feeling abashed at the claim of being ungrateful, she motioned towards the champagne, "and thank you for this too, I — it means a lot _._ "

He couldn't help but have the urge to reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear — but he kept himself reserved. "You're welcome, there's no need to be so gracious. Though I assume that means I just need to pick out a book for you, doesn't it?"

Rightly, Sakura didn't know what to say.  
So instead she took a sip of her drink and nodded in agreement.

This was the first time they were alone where she didn't feel uncomfortable around him. A part of her knew this was happening too easily, this kindness from him. It was _easy_ to get comfortable around him, and she blamed the magnetic pull of the Uchiha men that they were naturally gifted with. In the presence of such a powerful man she felt conflicted — halfway wondering if Sasuke was guessing where she was.

She hated herself for even thinking of him.

Yet she did.

"How is he?" she broke, Sakura knew the destructive power her ex held, and although a part of her felt a new relief that she hadn't felt in the past year — she still _cared._

He didn't seem offended by the question, but simply tilted his words, "he's focused on a new project we're working on. We spoke briefly, but he's as closed off as his older brother when he wants to be."

At the mention of the project, she caste away her curiosity for a brief second.

"New project?" she questioned, the slight edge in her voice portraying the tremor of distrust she had in the things they did.

Madara, unaware of her intention — "yes, I put him in charge of it to keep him busy. Busy minds get more done than stalled hearts."

Sakura tilted her head, surprised by his statement, "that's rather poetic of you," she paused to gather herself, "…but is it dangerous?"

The clan leader glanced down at the woman and with a small purse of his lips downed the rest of his glass, "I'll let you know now everything we do is dangerous. He took his vows, he passed his initiation. Sasuke is a… _difficult_ character, but he understands what his job is and where his loyalties lie."

_And they weren't with me._

Sakura realized this long ago, and she surmised that all men within the clan favored their clan over their _family_.

He could see the emotion filter across her face, the slight downturn of her lips — and he couldn't understand how that idiotic cousin of his found it difficult to make her happy, her expressive face gave everything away.

Madara leaned forward to gently grip her chin, like he always did.

"He loves you, you've done everything you possibly could for him. Some men…" he stopped short, eyeing her lips and running his thumb over the same spot on her lip, catching her breath in her throat. A part of him stirred hungrily, "…can't handle that sort of love."

His eyes softened — Softer than she would have thought possible.

She couldn't breathe.

The dark eyes that usually held a valor and charismatic flare were light and tender. Goosebumps touched her body as a shiver involuntarily quaked within her. Slowly, her body leaned forward into his touch, her own hand coming up to cradle his on her cheek, the touch of his skin felt familiar. An odd, warm sense of deja vu captivated her, and she closed her eyes to marvel in the distinct feel of _him._

It took everything for him to not lunge forward and capture her lips in a kiss.

Madara restrained himself, he would have taken her here. Dragged her closer and ate his fill until she whined beneath him and spread her legs.

Instead, he brought her towards his larger frame and kissed her forehead.

They stayed that way for a brief moment, tender and soft.

Sakura didn't want him to pull away.

What was this feeling?

She didn't have time to contemplate, because he was moving away from her — leaving her forehead burning with the plight of his lips.

"I better go," he excused himself, repeating to her what she told him weeks ago.

He left her complex with the scent of him still surrounding her.

Oak and cedar.

She felt sick that night, confused about the betrayal of her ex who she wanted nothing to do with and now a man that dragged the oddest sensations from her. Truly, she wanted nothing more than to hide away from them _both_ , focusing herself on her job and unwinding herself from the claws of this clan.

Angry and upset about the decisions she was making, there was never a part of her life she didn't have planned out. Since she was a child she had a rigorous idea and plan that was executed perfectly until a year ago.

That plan was further dismantling with each new night.

Sakura tiredly tucked her head into her pillow.

xox  
_Uchiha Sasuke's Home_

Itachi watched over his younger brother who he finally was able to get to sleep.

It took two ambien and a long discussion, but Itachi refused to let his younger brother dwindle any further.

He should have stepped in long ago.

Madara had made a promise to keep anything Sasuke dealt with strictly professional that regarded the business — a part of him couldn't believe that his overtly strict and judgmental younger brother decided to partake in the disgusting part of their clan. It made sense now, during the gala Sasuke had left Sakura for a good portion of the night — it wouldn't have just been for his district project.

Itachi's frown deepened when he noticed the bags under his brother's eye and the way his jaw clenched during sleep, the sound of his teeth grinding causing him to sigh. He only did that when he was stressed. The tattoos on his brother's body peaked from beneath his clothing, and Itachi shook his head before leaving the room.

Sasuke had always been dependent on him, ever since he was a child.

After their parent's death Itachi _thought_ Sasuke would be ok once he left for the states.

They mourned together.

Although — he knew that he ran away.

Away from their memory, away from the face that reminded him of a clan he wanted no part of.

He dialed the number by heart.

"Sakura-san, I need your help."

xox  
_Sakura's Apartment_  
_Downtown Kyoto_

She woke up early for work the next day, enjoying the scenery of her view when a knock on her door echoed throughout her apartment. She spent the night tossing and turning after her conversation with Itachi that left her voice broken and teary eyed, confessing everything that happened between her and Sasuke.

It hurt to tell his brother no, but she couldn't help him.

Not right now.  
  
The words still played within her head.

_I'll kill you.  
_  
He had to know. As much as she felt inclined to save him, as much as she _wanted_ to. Sakura knew she had to think about herself for now. With only a few hours of sleep, she dragged herself to the door and noticed a neatly brown paper wrapped box with a red ribbon sitting at the foot of her door. With no designation or tag, she grabbed it and glanced once to see if anyone was around - but the corridors were empty.

Back inside, she opened it slowly - wondering who could have left her this gift.

Inside, an old book of legends and Japanese lore sat inside the box.  
Gently, she lifted it up and eyed the cover, opening it to reveal an array of stories, and a small note was left between the old folds of paper

\- _What does this say about me?_

A small smile tugged at her lips as she hugged the book to her chest.

xox

_Downtown Kyoto_

Tobirama watched Madara leave his building from across the street. The tall male entered a black car as he did most days, the chauffer bowed politely and opened the door for him before getting in his own seat.

The car left, leaving the male sitting in his own car frustrated with the pace of his mission.

He punched the steering wheel, an angry growl erupting from his chest. How much longer would memorizing the clan leader's schedule work? He was making no progress, and he knew in the hollows of his stomach that the Yakuza were not going to wait.

His agency already knew about their plan - the police were tagged to most of the gang bosses, allowing them more time before his gang did anything. What he almost missed was a young woman running out of the building widlly, dodging through the crowds heading toward the train station - pretty pink hair trailing behind her. Tobirama furrowed his brows for a moment before quickly flipping through a folder, in search of the familiar woman's face.

He found her picture lodged behind one of the newer clan members.

_Haruno Sakura_  
_Uchiha Sasuke's Fiance_

Why was she living here now?

Tobirama watched her disappear into the train station down the street, now mildly curious as to why she wouldn't be living at home.

With her picture in hand, he made a phone call, "Itama, find out everything you have on a - Haruno Sakura."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My updating schedule should be more consistent on here. Thanks for reading thus far!  
> If you want to yell at me to update my Tumblr is Shyyynobi where I also post other projects and such. (:


	13. Consequence of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I will be posting my oneshot requests I've written on this website that are set in the universe of You Are My Fate. If anyone would like to read them, they will be set up to read very soon on my profile.  
> Tumblr: Shyyynobi

**_Past, pt 7_ **

 

* * *

 

 

_Feudal Japan_   
_Senju Manor_   
_West End_

Sakura held the scrolled letter in shaky hands.

_Why?_

Pressed against the trees in the backwoods of the estate, she struggled to gain her composure. Heromi quietly handed her the scroll when she entered their study that morning. By the simple, dark cluster of emotion veiled behind his eyes — Sakura knew that the information held in the scroll could potentially break her.

 _We have Haruno Kazuya_.

The rest of the words blurred.

"Father…" she whispered absently, clutching the parchment to her chest. Tears pricked at her vision, and she dearly wished she could be a male and ride out selfishly to save both her father and Tobirama. The man she loved and the man that raised her – how long had it been since her village had been torn apart? The last image she had of her father was him being dragged away by the Western Rogues, both of them kicking and screaming against the chains that handicapped them – only for Sakura to watch as they brutally beat her father into unconsciousness and sold her to slavers.

 _"_ _What a pretty face," one of the men whistled, gripping her chin tightly in his meaty hand, "—Kai, how much you think we can get for this one?"_

_One of the other men eyed her and licked his lips, "enough. - Nobody touches her or else she's worthless!" The brutish male paused to size her up once more, "but…."  
_

To her horror that day - she learned there were other ways in which men received pleasure.

Which left her wondering what could she do in the face of Uchiha Madara?

It seemed impossible.

_No._

She was no longer that weak girl.

She survived the slavers.  
She survived Madara once.  
She could do it again.

With a firm resolve, she wiped away her tears with the long sleeves of her yukata and ran inside to begin packing.

She made her decision.

She would trade her life for their freedom.

Foolishly, she had been the catalyst for hundreds of lives already – she would no longer risk the lives of those she cared about and the lives of innocents at the hands of the man that stole her purity. She could return to her life beside him, he would get married to the Hyuga heiress and soon enough her presence would fade into the infant cries of a legitimate heir.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold  
Western Perimeter_

A hushed silence fell over the men and women standing along the face of the cliff.

Madara kneeled before the priest, head bowed – long locks kissing the ground with his katana stabbed into the ground in front of him.

All men were dressed in their warrior garb, hakamas and armor gleaming proudly under the dawn of light, the women in their most tasteful kimonos that bellowed in the wind. The symbol of their clan etched onto the flags stood high above the black heads that watched the initiation of their new head, pride befitting each member present.

"We as a clan have overcome difficulties in the name of duty – and we have _triumphed_ over those that see to oppress our rich history. Through these trying times us Uchiha have always been _one_ unit with a similar goal, we take care of one another under the power of a _strong_ leader," the priest preached to the crowd, eliciting a murmur and shout of approval.

A small smirk danced on Madara's lips.

"Tajima served us for decades, and beneath him we prospered," he paused for a moment of silence and continued with a long drawl, "and today I have been granted the honor to initiate our new leader – the son of the mighty Tajima Uchiha, the man that has led our clan into dozens of victories, the Black Panther – the man that will win us the Great War!"

Applause.

The priest grabbed the cloak that formerly decorated Tajima's armor and draped it over Madara's shoulders, the sigil of a clan head. The thick black cloak clipped onto his armor, and on it was a clear, intricate design of the _Uchiwa_ fan, the wind sweeping the bold colors of red and black representing their clan.

More applause.

"I now hereby declare Uchiha Madara – our new liege and protector of the Uchiha clan!"

He stood, tall and thick. They stared back at him in awe and respect, glorifying the man that uncurled himself like a dragon that woke up from a century long slumber – ready to release a power within him that had been threatening to leak, only bound back by the power of his father and chains of the council.

Once he released his katana from the ground, the crowd bowed deeply on their knees for their new _rīdā,_ ecstatic over their latest victory against the white leopard and the man that would lead them to win the Great War.

"Rise," he motioned.

They stood.

Izuna walked over and put his hand on his brother's shoulder, unifying the strength between the two brothers.

Legend says that on that late winter morning, a power far too great fell into the wrong hands.

xox

 _Senju Manor_  
_West End_

Sakura bid her farewell to Heromi.

The old man pursed his lips with a tired look, understanding he wouldn't be able to convince the young woman from leaving that night. "I suppose it's useless to forbid you from leaving," the old man leaned on his cane, and it seemed like overnight he aged another decade.

"Thank you for everything," she said, refusing to listen to anything but her conscience screaming at her to save the men within Madara's hand. Sakura pulled him into a hug – something unfamiliar for the old man, he eased within a few seconds and put on a sad smile, having seen no other like this girl before. To resist the looming sadness, he cleared his throat, urging the pinkette to pull away from him.

"Do you have a weapon?" he questioned her, and with her silence he knew she must have failed at stealing anything from the armory.

He walked over to his desk and pulled out a slim dagger wrapped with his house's sigil of a hawk at its hilt.

He handed it to her, and she could feel the importance of the blade tucked in it's sheath. "I couldn't—"

"Take it," he commaned, "it will give my old heart some rest at night knowing you have a weapon. What's a man of my age going to do with a dagger? I heal people – I don't injure them," he tuffed, as if she should have understood already.

"—Now leave before I alert the guards of your departure."

She left on a silver mare in the dead of night provided by Heromi, bundled in one of Tobirama's cloaks, the fur tickling her neck and Heromi's blade hanging off of her belt. She traded in her yukata for pants and oversized hakamas, hoping to trail the edges of busy roads disguised as a man.

At a riverbed outside of the estate, Sakura stared at her reflection in the dark waters.

Illuminated by the moon hanging over the trees, she gripped the blade in her hand.

Without hesitation, she cut her hair down to her ears in choppy layers – each long lock falling into the water's edge and swallowed by the current. It wasn't until she felt the wind tickle her neck that she stopped, moussing her hair that now looked like a deep rose compared to its pastel counterpart. It fell between her eyes, covering her yin seal – contrasting against her deep green eyes and accentuating her face.

Happy with her work, she sheathed her blade and looked at the unfamiliar face in front of her.

Defined chin, shadowed face, dressed in Tobirama's clothes, if she stood tall and kept her hood on – the chances of her being recognized as a female were slim. She looked like a _petite_ male, but it would work.

With one last glance at her reflection, Sakura saddled her horse and disappeared into the thick trees.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold  
Kanazawa River_

"She always loved water," Madara said to his brother stoically, both brothers stood shoulder to shoulder as their parents graves were being marked. The ceremony took place the day prior to his initiation, and they decided it would be better to bury them here by the river that cut behind the stronghold than send them back to the tombs at their main home alongside the ocean.

"Father would be happy to be here," Izuna agreed, they already had a sculptor working on their headstones, and they would be given an erect statue in their honor. "We did win the battle, something he would be proud of."

Madara stared at his mother's plot – an array of wild flowers and imported gifts sat on the ground in her memory, "and she would want to be next to father."

For as estranged as their nuclear family seemed, their bond was still strong. Unspoken agreements occurred with simple glances, and at times it seemed as if he and his brothers held a sort of telepathy with one another. The curse and gift of the Uchiha, as it was called.

Family.  
The clan.  
Your fellow clansmen.

There was **_nothing_** more important.

Their father drilled it into them that their clan, their legacy – it would be written in history, and there was no other clan that treasured each other as the Uchiha did.

"Should we discuss your decision with the council now?"

"Yes, gather everyone for me – I'm going to stay here a minute longer."

Izuna nodded and left towards the looming castle.

Madara stayed and kneeled to fix a couple of flowers that had been blown away by the breeze and set them atop his mother's grave, his anger for the Senju gripping him like a vice.

He left a few minutes later, leaving the whispers of the wind curling around the memories of his parent's deathbed.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold  
Dark Cells_

Tobirama lulled his head to the side, unable to gather the energy to keep himself upright.

He was dying.

He could smell the stench of death in the enclosed cell.

His only salvation was the darkness that allowed him to envision Sakura, bright-eyed and waiting for him in her pale blue yukata, embroidered with the senju crest.

The large door opened up to reveal a guard and two handmaidens. Somehow, they dragged him to a larger cell with light, nearly blinding him after days of being kept in the dark. They stripped him of his clothing, and like a paper doll he could do nothing but allow them to move his body for him. He struggled to remain upright - and both of the women frowned, "we need the healer - the infection on his leg has spread."

With little care, the guard disappeared.

The women struggled to carry the large Senju into the bath, "why...why are you doing this?" he croaked out, his voice alien to his ears.

Once settled, they dutifully avoided his question. One of the dark haired maidens grabbed a canteen and pressed it to his lips, "please drink."

Hungrily, he drank the water - the pits of his stomach souring at the intrusion of subsidence. Together, the two woman worked to clean him - removing the clotted blood in his hair, tedious in their task to make sure his body was free of any dirt and grime. Once they were finished, they dressed him in a fresh hakama - and again he asked, "why?"

Scarcely, he could only think that Hashirama managed to allow this, but the duo glanced at each other warily before answering, "Madara-sama told us to care for you." Please wait here while the healer arrives."

While the healer worked on his leg, he couldn't stay conscious long enough to answer why he wouldn't let him die.

_xox_

_Senju Manor  
West End_

Hashirama entered the building with bags heavy beneath his eyes.

Sullen and extremely tired, him and his men barely escaped – fortunately, they were able to cross the bridge that separated the Uchiha from them, split in the middle of their feuding lands. They held it for a week – but the Uchiha forces had been relentless and forced them to fall back behind the safety of the bridge.

And he made the executive decision to draw the bridge that was over two hundred feet above ground and three hundred feet long – safely guarding the Uchiha from crossing lest they fall into the pummeling waters below. History claimed the reason for the Senju rising was due to this niche bridge that protected them from other clans.

Mito raced towards Hashirama and wrapped her arms around her husband, her deep, dark eyes were etched with concern, "are you injured?" she looked over his body, having waited for her husband and his forces for over a fortnight.

"I'm alright," he smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head, easing his tense muscles at the touch of her gentle hold on him, "there's no need to worry about me."

She smiled into his touch and closed her eyes, "what of Itama? We have not heard word here yet," she mentioned to him, they pulled away to leave to their quarters, his banner men and remaining forces stationed in the woods surrounding their estate.

"Itama should be returning by morning," Hashirama explained the events that transpired over the past week.

By the time he finished, he was weary and sitting at their bedside – dread flooding his system.

"I'm sure Tobirama is still alive, it would be foolish for Madara to kill such a valuable asset."

Hashirama pursed his lips, worried about his younger brother. For as cold and menacing as he portrayed himself, they were kin and best friends. He decided that morning that perhaps he could use Sakura as a bargaining chip for his brother. Although it would be reckless an unfair to the young girl, he _needed_ his brother back. Madara met with him once to get her back, perhaps this offer would work, "where is Sakura?" he questioned his wife.

Mito's eyes fell downcast, upset with her own failure of running the estate in her husband's stead, "…Sakura left two nights ago, I had guards and a tracking team sent to retrieve her – but there was no trace of her. According to Heromi-san, she already left to surrender herself to Madara in hopes that he will release Tobirama and her father."

He nearly sputtered, "Madara has her _father_?"

She frowned, "apparently so. I remember Kazuya as a young girl, he was always such a nice man – he loved her dearly."

Hashirama paced back and forth, "who allowed her to see the letter?" he snapped, "she's going to get killed on the road there! Then we'll lose one of our few bargaining pieces."

Although she loved her husband fiercely, Mito was never akin to dodging criticism of him, "she's _not_ a piece to be bargained – she's a _woman,_ not some chip on a table for you and the Uchiha's to play with."

"I know things are run differently in Uzumaki territory, but remember what happened to your village after you left – worse things could happen to her if she runs into trouble, which she's guaranteed to in the face of this forsaken war," he huffed, leaning himself the bed. His brother, Sakura…Madara, it all seemed to loom over him – and the Great War had only just begun.

Mito walked over and sat beside him on their bed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "she's a strong girl. We women from Kanazawa are known for our resilience, I just happened to be taken back by the Uzumaki when they found out I had been harbored there."

He smiled dimly at her, his wife was never one to be taken lightly, and at times he feared her more than death itself, "Tobirama was concerned with the discussions of her father and our parents…Is there something of importance regarding that village?" Hashirama inquired, grasping her hand in his own.

Mito looked away from him and watched the men fraternize at their camps stationed outside their window, "…there are rumors," she murmured.

"Rumors?"

"Yes, rumors."

xox

 _Uchiha Stronghold_  
_Western Perimeter_

"The council isn't happy about your decision, Madara-sama," his father's previous advisor stood at the door, waiting on Izuna and himself to meet with the others in the grand hall.

Izuna glared at the male, "Jin, my brother's word was _final_ — are you telling us that they're willing to disagree with their leader?"

A small laugh erupted from within Madara, his decision to break off his betrothal to the Hyuga heiress displeased the council that had created the plan for him, and through his father's power they would have the north secured — and although he told his brother the first decision, he had forgotten to tell his brother the second piece of information.

"I think I can come to a compromise that the council will agree on," Madara silenced Izuna who knew _that_ laugh — the laugh of his brother that suddenly got his way among their mother and brothers, the same laugh that ultimately led Izuna in a rampage of fury normally directed at his older brother.

"What did you do?" Izuna bit at him slowly.

"Jin — please notify the elders that I forgot to tell them that in my place, Izuna will be marrying Hiashi's daughter," Madara finished — a sly smile on his lips, "you're dismissed."

Jin bowed, leaving the ensuing chaos erupting from Izuna.

"You fucking _liar!"_ he seethed.

Madara shrugged, "I never lied," his thick voice lathered the words with haughty resonance, "though what was it you said to me? Our people will find it a weakness if you don't marry into a worthy clan," he repeated the words that echoed around him for the past year.

Izuna looked as if he could kill him, "and what of you? You prance as the head of our clan with no intention of creating an heir? We may secure the north but what of you? There's weakness in being unwed — our mother brought over two thousand men and grain each year from her house that helped father."

"I _already_ have that settled," Madara said with finality, the tightness in his voice resembling their fathers, subduing Izuna into compliance.

He came to the decision nights prior.

If word were to be trusted, there was a branch of the Uzumaki unhappy with the main house.

He would wed the defective branch's eldest daughter.

Securing the north and the south.

Sakura would return to plea for the safety of her father.

The ashen houses of the Senju would fall.

And the Great War would end in their victory.

xox

_Rogue Land  
Trading Village_

Sakura hitched her horse to the stable and kept her hood over her head.

Hunger prowled and gnawed at her stomach dangerously, she felt light headed after her two day journey. Only stopping to let her horse rest and eat, she was sleep deprived and needed to eat something heartier than bread. This was the last place she wanted to stop, but usually trading villages were safe – especially so close to the Senju bridge that bordered on their territory.

"Hasirama-sama ordered it closed, no one is able to pass through until the Uchiha move their forces," a man commented to another passing by on the main vein of the street, catching Sakura's ear.

"Well fuck," the other man spat, "how are traders supposed to reach the other territories with the bridge drawn? I have a whole caravan waiting to reach the east."

Sakura crept closer to their conversation, suddenly very aware that her journey could be sidelined by possibly a month if she had to round the rolling cliffs that separated the Senju from other territories rather than pass swiftly over the bridge.

Worry plagued her.

Deciding to wait and think with a clear head, she made her way to an inn that offered soup. Merchants and slavers, mercenaries and caravans of people bustled in and out of this village. The array of spices, foods, and wine for sale nearly made her head dizzy. The exotic smells nearly had her lose her way through the streets when a woman grabbed her arm and forced her to stop.

"Oh, what a _pretty_ face," the woman cooed – dressed in simple, see-through robes that revealed protruding nipples. The chain on her neck contrasted against the devilish smile on her lips. "How about I take you inside?" the woman was extraordinarily beautiful, and Sakura glanced behind her to see a tavern clearly designated as a whore house.

"I need to go," she said to the woman, attempting to dislodge her arm from her grasp.

"Are you sure?" the woman crept closer, dragging her fingers over Sakura's collar bone, "what an exotic coloring you have Ser, or should I say M'Lord? Only a highborn would have such wonderful hair, am I right?"

The woman licked the shell of her ear before Sakura snapped out of this woman's allure.

Sakura pulled away and offered her apologies before tossing the woman a silver coin, "please, I need to go."

With a steadying sigh, she entered the inn and kept her head down low.

She ordered a simple soup and bread, hoping to eat and leave this village as quickly as possible to see the bridge herself. On the _bright_ side, apparently she did look like a male – albiet a bit gangly. If she didn't draw attention to herself — she could eat, buy a few supplies, and be on her way.

The laughter within the tavern bounced jovially off the walls.  
Men drank their fill of wine and the women from the whorehouse decorated the laps of mercenaries.

Laughter.  
The smell of burnt bread and turnip soup.  
The claws of unkept nervousness gripped at her neck.

With her bowl destroyed, she nearly ordered another when a tall male swept into the seat beside her, mug slammed drunkenly on the table.

"And what do we have here?" he grinned, sharp teeth bare for all to see and bandages used as a face mask that sat at his neck, "some little Lord traveling?"

Sakura ducked her head and glanced away, deciding to stay quiet.

The tall male nudged her, hard.

"So you don't speak?" he urged, eyeing her sharply.

She lifted herself to stand, but a strong hand gripped her shoulder and brought her back down, "I'm **_not_** done with you – what's a scrawny guy doing in a tavern like this wearing such expensive furs?" he brought the mug to his lips, and Sakura could see the curiosity within him.

"Traveling to the east," she feigned her deepest voice that didn't entirely give her away.

The male laughed, "to the east?" he hit her again, almost knocking her over with his brutish strength, "no one is heading that way unless they have a death wish. Do you have a death wish, little guy?" he drawled.

"No."

"Then why not stay and have a drink with my friend and I? You look like an interesting character." The male motioned toward another…Male? Woman? Sitting in the corner of the tavern alone, ignoring the chaos within the room.

He called over the waitress and pointed to their table, "three for my table."

Sakura sat nervously amongst the two individuals, wondering if they were a couple.

"The name is Zabuza," he introduced himself, taking another swig of his drink, "and this is Haku."

_Haku?_

Still unable to differentiate the person's gender, Sakura opted to not use binary words, "…Sakumo, my name is Sakumo."

Zabuza grinned, those sharp teeth instilling a level of fear within her, "—what are you doing out here, Sakumo?"

Sakura eyed the door, wondering how she could possibly escape this ordeal, her hand quietly ghosted over the hilt of her blade, "stopping by to eat before I head east – is the bridge really closed off?"

He nodded and chugged back more of his wine, "yep. No one is crossing until the Uchiha move – this war has been great for us until that fucking bridge closed. Fucking Hashirama is too scared thinking that once the Uchiha get past that bridge, it'll be over."

Her heart felt like it was ready to implode, "and there's no other way to get across?"

He huffed, clearly displeased with the situation, "not unless you plan on trekking through the mountains to the south, one would think they would have built another bridge by now."

Their drinks arrived and Sakura swayed with the decision to actually drink or excuse herself. "I should get going," she murmured after taking a hefty drink as to not be rude, the substance tasted bitter – Madara allowed her to drink wine with him on a few occasions, and she never truly enjoyed the fuzzy feeling in her head and her sloppy movements.

Zabuza stabbed a knife into the table, leaning over her dangerously, "you leave when _I_ say you leave."

Sakura stilled, biting fear evident in her eye, "what do you want?" she glared, green eyes narrowing in retaliation.

"Looks to me like a highborn kid decided to travel by himself, if I can judge by that coin pouch and dagger you have your hand on," he pointed out – leaving her agape at how he could have possibly seen them.

She stayed still, noticing the way the woman named Haku beside him played with a blade in her hand, an unreadable look displayed on her face. It had been a mistake to come here, even guised as a male this was a stupid idea; she should have ridden through and found a smaller village.

"In fact –" he sat beside her and slowly took the hood off of her face, "you're a _woman,_ aren't you?"

He laughed again, loud and hard and it scraped against her spine – "I knew you were too fucking pretty to be a boy," he kept his voice low and in her ear, "I have half a mind to take you outside—"

She stabbed him in the leg.

Fast and quick, she gripped her dagger and bolted through the tavern, pushing past bodies and exiting into the streets, hoping to lose them in the rush of people and merchants. People yelled after her, but Sakura could only focus on escape.

Heart pounding in her chest, all she had to do was reach the stable —

Rounding a blind corner, the young woman grabbed her and pulled her into an alleyway, covering her mouth to silence her screams until she had her in the corner, thrashing against the strong hold of this woman.

Zabuza stepped forward into the alley once he reached them, watching her with a humorous eye lit ablaze with blood trailing down his thigh. He seethed with unveiled anger.

"Leave me —!" a gag was put into her mouth, constricting her throat and making it impossible to cry out for anyone to hear. She kicked against Haku, screaming into the gag and thrashing against their grip.

_No!_

The odd man dropped down in front of her and smirked, "you're quick, I'll give you that." He grabbed her dagger and eyed the hawk at the base of it, "—fancy weapon. I know you didn't come across this yourself, girl."

He leaned forward and pressed it against her cheek, "I see why you cut your hair, you have a pretty face — it would be a shame if something happened to a small thing like yourself." Sakura could see the hungry intent within his eyes, alive with anger. She could see the swell of his member beneath his pants, a dark place within her knew what he wanted.

She struggled to squirm away, which only fueled his laughter, "you were trying to hide from men like _me_."

He undid his belt.

xox

  
_Senju Manor_  
_West End_

"According to old tales, the women of Kanazawa hold a peculiar trait for time," Mito explained softly.

"Time?"

Mito watched the clouds gather outside.

It was going to rain soon.

"The elders always attested to an innate ability within the women of our village, although it only ever effected a _select_ few. Many people mistook their power for sorcery, and they were hunted down, forcing the remaining people of Kanazawa into a smaller village - making a deal with the Senju generations ago for their safety if they took residence on their land."

Heavy drops fell onto the earth.

Hashirama chewed on her words, "and this power you speak of?"

Mito smiled to herself, fondly remembering the time she spent sitting around the Great Mothers who would speak of the tales passed down onto them, "if practiced, those that were given this power had a greater intuition with the land than that of regular men, a sixth sense of sorts. However, only a few could ever wield the use of time willingly."

She sighed, "sadly, all I can remember being told were simple legends meant to fascinate the young children. I don't think your father and mother spent time in my village speaking of old tales such as that, and there hasn't been a soul alive to tell the truth of these stories for centuries."

xox

Sakura wailed, attempting to kick him away as he wrenched her legs apart and started dragging down her pants.

"Haku, hold her!" he snapped, gripping her thighs hard enough to bruise.

Her fear ate at her, and she started to uncontrollably sob — knowing there would be no one helping her in this city with unknown and horrid faces. Tears stained her cheeks as she felt the blade draw blood from her throat. Haku gripped her hair, cranking her neck upward — restricting her movement. She whimpered when Zabuza's pants fell to the ground, helpless and terrified.

_Not again._

He forced her legs open.

_Not again._

His length pressed against her.

_Please. Please!_

With a sharp thrust, he entered her - she screamed.

_Not again._

**_STOP!_ _  
_ **

_xox_

_Present_  
_Kyoto, Japan_  
_Sakura's Apartment_

Sakura doubled over, grasping her head as an unknown pain overcame her that sent her reeling to the floor.

Tea spilled everywhere.

A splitting sensation stabbed itself within her head. As if a knife lodged itself into the center of her forehead, her hand feebly gripped the empty space, paralyzed by the pain that shot itself down her body.

She choked on air, suffocating under the immense feeling of shrapnel beneath her scalp.

Her vision blurred.

" _M-Madara_!"

 _xox_  
  
_Feudal Japan_  
_Rogue Land_  
_Trading Village_

The laughter within the tavern bounced jovially off the walls.  
Men drank their fill of wine and the women from the whorehouse decorated the laps of mercenaries.

Laughter.  
The smell of burnt bread and turnip soup.  
The claws of nervousness gripped at her neck.

Sakura blinked a few times, unaware of her location.

Suddenly frightened and unable to remember anything, she stood and ignored the dry curl of hunger that sat in her stomach. She could see a strange man with sharp teeth eye her from the corner of the tavern — a cold sweat lathered her body. Her thighs hurt. Panic and adrenaline pumped through her body, forcing her to stand abruptly form her table.

Voices surrounded her, harrowing her ability to move

She left the claustrophobic building, struggling to regain her composure and take deep breaths — there wasn't enough air.

 _She needed air!_  
  
With shaky hands, Sakura reached her mare and quickly left the compact streets of the village. The dozens of voices multiplying into millions that compounded around her, sending her in a furious frenzy to find somewhere quiet.

Ready to faint, it wasn't until they reached the edge of the village that Sakura collapsed onto the ground, expelling the contents of her stomach and spooking her mare beside her. A few singular eyes swept over what they assumed was a drunk male and moved on. She heaved and sputtered - her body shaking with unknown terror.

An eternity later the voices finally quieted down and her panic seized.

" _You!_ Get out of here you drunk bastard!" a shop merchant yelled at her, threatening her with a knife.

She dragged herself onto her horse and left.

_What happened?_

Hesitantly, she reached up to touch her cheek — _tears_?

When did she start crying?  
Why did she start crying?

Instinct told her to leave.

Another wave of terror threatened to drown her, and she escaped the invisible confines of the village — the impending sense of dread accompanying her dark memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, don't forget to let me know what you think~~


	14. The Devil In His Eyes

**_Present, pt 7_ **

* * *

  
_Present_  
_Children's Hospital_  
_Kyoto, Japan_

Sakura absently skimmed the spot on her forehead, ghosting her fingers over her skin in an attempt to diagnose herself. Fearful that the pain would suddenly flare up again — after getting herself through an MRI, nothing showed up.

Nothing.

Her only thought was that it could have been an exploding migraine.

They were common enough, and she deduced it down to a mixture of stress and anxiety that plagued her over the last month.

"Sakura, you're needed in the operating room," Shizune poked her head from around the corner with a small frown on her lips, noticing how pale Sakura's skin was. She set down her clipboard on the table, "—if you don't feel well, I could ask Tsunade-sama for us to switch? We would just need to confirm it with the family—"

Sakura smiled and straightened herself dutifully, "I'll be alright. I promised Mira-chan that I would tell her a story before her surgery, I don't want to do that to her."

Amongst everything that happened in the last few weeks, her job kept her sane. The children's smiles when they were recovering post-surgery and their resilience in the face of much harder trials in their life gave her strength. If they could still smile and play games battling chronic leukemia, then she could handle her issues at home.

With a deep breathe, she gripped the children's book in her hand and excused herself from the room.

xox

_Downtown Kyoto_

Tobirama kept his distance.

Her hair was secured in a tight ponytail, and she walked with a purposeful stride out of the subway, amongst the sea of dark hair — her pink stuck out like an eye sore.

_"_ _Haruno Sakura," his younger brother spoke easily over the phone, "apparently she works at the children's clinic in Kyoto, underwent an internship with Senju Tsunade after graduation, has a clean record — nothing remarkable other than her grades throughout school."_

_"_ _Why is she surrounding herself with these guys?" Tobirama couldn't understand why a girl such as herself would associated herself with the Uchihas._

_"_ _Apparently she went to school with Uchiha Sasuke since childhood — there's a couple of incidents where him and a Uzumaki Naruto got arrested for fighting, nothing of interest we're looking for."_

He was no genius, but it was easy to understand that the clan gathered another member - dragging in the young doctor with them.

Why she moved away from her fiancé? No idea.

Cigarette perched between his lips, he flicked it onto the sidewalk before stepping on it with his foot — following after the young woman.

xox

She felt him last minute.

She turned around once, twice — and on the third time she noticed the broad shouldered male keeping an even distance behind her. Finally rounding her way around a corner, the fearless (and rather dumb) part of her waited a few seconds to confront him when he made his way around the busy street corner.

"Excuse me, but are you  _following_  me?" she snapped at him when she caught him by surprise.

White tipped hair kept firm under a baseball hat, she noticed how he stood another head taller than her, and she nearly had to take a step back to afford staring at something other than his chest.

Slightly startled by her attitude, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching them.

"Excuse me!"

"That's quite the accusation for someone just walking down the street," he said off-handedly.

"Right," she huffed, "it's a correct accusation when you've been following me for the past six streets."

He chuckled, low and rich.

Although, there was a sense of familiarity with this young woman.

"This isn't funny! I stopped at the coffee shop and you were there, I've gone into two other stores and miraculously you seem to still be behind me!" exasperated by the mans cool nature, her eyes narrowed in retaliation.

In return, the male stuffed his hand casually in his pockets, people passed by them, half-annoyed by the two standing in the middle of the congested sidewalk — but the male took a daring step forward, staring down at the doctor, "and if I  _am_?"

Fear tickled Sakura's shoulders, and with a nervous frown, she noticed the tattoos tightly wound around his wrist peaking from beneath an expensive watch and cuff of his sleeve. Fearing she may have over stepped her danger threshold, she took a hesitant step back, "…well,  _stop_."

Pathetic.

Her voice held the steadiness of her faux bravado, but the male fixed his reading glasses and brought out his badge that winked at her in the daytime sunlight, "—you're Haruno Sakura, no?"

Unsure whether to feel relieved or not, she remained still — "why?"

The tall male with odd, piercing red eyes stiffed his badge back into his pocket and lifted a cigarette to his lips, "—it's nothing."

He started to walk away.

"Hey! You never answered why you were following me!" she nearly tugged on the sleeve of his shirt out of irritation when he stopped to glance back at her, stalling her efforts.

"Careful who you associate yourself with, Ms. Haruno," he murmured smoothly, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card, "don't hesitate to call if you're in trouble."

Sakura held onto the business card, realizing a second too late she was involuntarily shaking. "Wait!" she couldn't shake the feeling of knowing him, "have I seen you somewhere before?" like the hundreds of patients she's seen throughout her time working at the hospital and she would run into the parents at a restaurant, the eerie feeling that she knew his face confused her.

He chose to ignore her.

With a few easy strides he lost himself into the crowded streets of Downtown Kyoto, and Sakura watched him disappear into the waves of people with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

xox

_Uchiha Offices_  
_Kyoto, Japan_  
_4th District_

Madara kept the gun settled between them on his desk, easy enough for either of them to grab.

"Then shoot me," Madara chimed evenly, daring the younger, defective clan member to solve the transparent issue of his younger brother. "If you're so willing to threaten me, Itachi — then why don't you solve everyone's problems?" he leaned forward on the desk, the devil bright in his eye.

He loved a good challenge.

Itachi eyed the gun on the desk, debating his options.

It almost made Madara laugh at how susceptible Fugaku's sons were.

"Though you understand with my death, everything falls apart — no? You're smarter than that, Itachi. The part of you inclined to your fellow clansmen  _knows_  I'm not the bad guy here. I'm simply directing this clan, our  _blood_  — into the best possible direction."

Itachi never felt anger pertinent within him, nor did he ever act recklessly.

Perhaps the calmest Uchiha to ever walk the steady waters of their clan, Madara knew this — and he knew Itachi valued the life of his younger brother over his own, "Sasuke's actions have been entirely of his own motivation. I told him to watch over Sakura, and he chose to threaten her life. I only require him to complete his duties to the clan."

He could see the flicker of understanding flash across normally void eyes, "—you should have never involved him in anything other than the business, he was doing good opening up the fourth district, and you're ruining him by having him work for our clan's other extremities."

Madara laughed, "or have I allowed him to focus on something other than satisfying your absence? You stand in front of me in a cloak of moral righteousness in the belief that the work you do in the states is better than what our clan has done for decades. I do not own Sasuke, nor am I going to police him. As his  _brother_  shouldn't  _you_ be around to guide him?"

Black eyes stared at one another in hardened resolve.

"I've done everything I could to help Sasuke, he was fine until your involvement in his life has him ruining everything he cares about," Itachi's words were slow, meticulous — as he was with everything.

"Or has your detrimental absence and affect it's has on his life finally surfaced? A person can only suppress things for so long. You  _left_  him after your parents died. If it weren't for Sakura and that Uzumaki kid, we could have possibly lost our dear Sasuke — I've come along in his life and given him a taste of home, a sense of  _belonging_ ," he paused to stand, hands leaned on the desk — and as possibly the tallest Uchiha, he stood over Itachi's leaner frame, "— **do not**  come into my office and threaten me when I've been the one to help your younger brother. Take responsibility for the damage you have done."

And this was how it always was.

Years apart in age.

If the vote during their father's generation had gone differently, it would be Itachi sitting behind the desk and Madara questioning his decisions as a clan leader.

Madara shoved the gun towards him, tempting him.

The younger clan member grabbed the gun with ease and pointed it at Madara, flicking the the safety off with a practiced hand.

Itachi remained still, unafraid of their clan leader, but understanding the repercussions of such a crass decision. They remained still — Madara's lively eyes daring the one person that seemed to resent him the most. Although they may share blood, they always had a strained relationship. Many times they would emerge home after fighting with one another with Shisui in the middle trying to stop them — much to the dismay of Tajima and Fugaku who hoped they would run the empire together.

With a small frown, he set the gun down back on the table.

He turned to leave.

A deep, vocal chuckle escaped Madara.

"If you care so much, my offer still stands for your readmission — maybe then you can care for Sasuke  _properly._ "

The small shake in his step was all Madara needed to know that Itachi actually listened.

_xox_  
_Shinoya District_  
_Downtown Kyoto_

Sakura covered the mouth of the young boy in her arms, hoping to keep him quiet enough until the two men left.

Stowed away behind some dumpsters and boxes, she could see the gleam of the gun shifting under the moon. Keeping her breathing deathlu silent, the two men stood at the entrance of an alleyway that she got them cornered into.

Why did she get herself involved?

Children were a weakness, and this young boy had been crying nonstop searching for his parents in the crowded streets of their city. After her run in with the strange man from earlier, she  _should_ have stayed home. An innate sensibility would have recommended that she stay in and work on her dissertation for the board, or the exhaustion that usually crept on her during the sunset hour would have promoted her to crawl into bed after being at the hospital all day.

But no.

Her hive mind and restlessness forced her to leave and occupy herself.

Ino was busy with Sai.

Naruto had dinner plans with Hinata.

Her parents were on a trip to Otsu to visit her grandparents.

Which left her alone.

Deciding that it would be healthier for her mental state if she got out of the apartment instead of stewing in her thoughts, Sakura dressed herself to get some errands and shopping done.

Honey dango stick in hand, she noticed a young boy crying at the juncture of the busy streets. Glancing around, she couldn't find a helpless parent frantically searching for their child.

Something within her told her to leave him.

But the humane part of her knelt beside him and offered him the dango stick.

"Where are your parents?" she murmured softly.

The young boy wiped his tears with the back of his sleeve, choking on his own breath, "I-I don't know."

Sakura frowned, "were you just with them?"

"I don't know," he numbly grasped the treat from her hand and looked around at the dozens of pairs of feet that walked past them, hiccuping until he finally slowed down enough to speak, "mama said she would be right back."

He looked confused, and he couldn't have been older than four.

"Did she? Do you live near here?"

He nodded and took a bite of the dango, a new happiness coating his tongue with sugar.

Sakura stood, grabbing him and situating him on her hip. Years of working with children at least offered her the ability to understand them, "which way did she go?"

He wrapped one arm around her, and with a mouthful of food he pointed in the direction that led toward a calmer district within the city that fed into the apartments and homes.

Vaguely, she wondered if there was an officer nearby.

She couldn't waltz off with this kid.

What if his mother was looking for him?

"What's your name?" she smiled at the way his nose scrunched up with a new layer of sticky honey coating his fingers, "my name is Sakura."

"Yato!" he chimed happily.

"What a cute name, let's go look for you mom, ok?" With him calm in her arms, she looked for a police man to help her.  _Of course,_  there were none in sight — and the nearest station was at least thirty minutes from here. "You said you live close by?" she asked again.

The boy nodded and pointed in the same direction.

Ever since the pain in her forehead, she felt a displacement within herself that she couldn't explain. Fearing that it was a catalyst for vertigo — Sakura kept the feeling at bay, but the dizziness was too much once she began walking.

Sakura stopped to regain her composure when an odd looking black sedan stopped in the middle of the busy street. Another black car parked on the opposite side, completely stalling traffic. The cars behind them started honking and cursing, some people poking their heads out of their vehicles to start yelling.

She gripped the young boy closer to her — "let's go," she murmured mostly to herself, picking up her step.

It only took the turn of her head to glance back at the ordeal to see two masked men walk out of their cars to begin shooting. Guns that she had perhaps only saw in movies — larger than her own torso were shot at incoming traffic, targeting a singular vehicle

Screaming ensued.

Another group emerged from the opposite end of the street — yelling and shouting directions as they began shooting in retaliation, with little care for the civilian lives around them.

The sound of bullets ringing across the buildings and scraping against the cars felt similar to chaos — the busy intersection piled up with oncoming traffic and those that exited their cars to make a quick escape. Sakura ran with the crowds, keeping herself close to the buildings and covering the young boy's face as he began to wail in her arms.

She ran down the street, only to be pushed by the sea of people, forcing her to lose her balance.

Panic tore through the small area of the city.

The deafening roar of a car bomb bloomed into the night, silencing the dispersed shells of the bullets that rained between two groups of men.

Her ears rang.

More screaming and yelling, with a tentative look — her heart dropped.

Droves of people were running in the populated city to escape the madness, but the bomb caught at least thirty people in it's explosion. Bodies littered the floor and people dropped onto the streets between the high-rises in the cross hairs of the two shooting groups.

Yato howled in her arms, and in the rush of people pushing against her she fell.

Struggling to get up, people tried to get around her but in their hurry to flee — herself and Yato were getting trampled.

Forcibly pushing herself off the ground, terror seized her chest but adrenaline pushed her forward. Grabbing the young boy once more, they ran.

Deciding to cut away from the crowds — she ran into an alley that opened up to some back streets, cutting the corner she found a small enclosed space behind some dumpsters littered with boxes. Pushing Yato forward, she set him on her lap, "—Yato-kun, I need you to be quiet, ok?"

With shaky hands — she picked up her cell and dialed for the police.

Busy.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath.

Yato whimpered against her, and all she could do was shakily try and keep him close to her.

Unable to see the words on her screen correctly — she dialed Sasuke.

_Please pick up, please-!_

It sent her straight to voicemail.

Tears pricked at her vision — another explosion rocked the city causing her and Yato to yelp.

In the distance, she could see another van rolling down the narrow street.

Somehow she managed to dial Madara.

It rang once, twice.

_Please._

On the third tone, "Sakura? What's going on? Where are you?"

He knew.

"They started shooting! And then the bomb — I'm here in an alley…alley off of Shin…Shinoya-!" she couldn't keep her voice straight.

The van slowed to a stop and two men emerged.

"Please hurry," she pleaded into the phone.

"We're coming!  **Do not**  hang up!" his gruff voice growled into the phone.

One of the men stopped and glanced around, "did you hear that?"

Sakura hung up the phone and bit her lip to silence herself, forcibly covering Yato's mouth to keep them both quiet. Tears streamed down the young boys cheek, and it took everything in her power to stop herself from crying.

xox

_Downtown Kyoto_

"What the  **fuck**  happened!" he yelled to the men in the car — the news was already aware of it, an emergency alert transmitted to people's phones thinking it could possibly be a terrorist attack, but that was quickly disputed when two rival groups began shooting at one another.

Shisui ground his teeth in an attempt to decipher what was happening, "apparently two Yakuzua groups are fighting — one may have been a defective branch," he explained in an attempt to read through the information given.

"None of our men are involved?" Madara asked him.

Izuna shook his head, "shouldn't be. But how the fuck did some low Yakuza get ahold of semi's when we're the only supplier?"

Anger spit at the Uchiha men within the car — most of all Madara who continuously checked for Sakura's location, "S _hisui!_ " he snapped, "didn't I tell you to make sure someone was  **always**  on her?"

The men knew better than the make excuses for themselves in the face of their leader, "I take responsibility — I didn't assign Inari this morning." It was better to appease the raging dragon than go against him.

Madara tried her phone again.

Nothing.

"Fuck."

xox

The two men stood guard, their guns glinting from her position, reminding her of the night she witnessed her first murder. She didn't know guns. They were expelled weapons of Japan, only those that trained and got themselves licensed could step foot into a shooting range — but anything further was illegal.

It frightened her to think that these men could so easily grab these weapons and use them against the general public.

"You think it's almost done over there?" the bald-headed one shifted from foot to foot — Sakura remained still, Yato squirmed uneasily in her lap.

"Probably not, those fucking traitors don't die that easily. Raiden did tell us he would be here after it's done," the shorter one sighed.

Sirens resonated in the street over, the horns and shouts of the police were beginning to swarm the area.

Accidentally, Yato kicked his foot forward — shuffling one of the boxes.

Both men zeroed in on their spot, "did you hear that?"

The shorter one took a few steps forward, "probably a rat — this city is disgusting." Unwilling to confirm his suspicions, the bald male stood right in front of their small space between the dumpster and the wall.

Her body shook tightly around Yato's.

"I know I heard something," the brute grumbled — until he noticed the small quiver of the boxes.

He kicked the boxes out of the way to find Sakura and Yato pathetically hiding amongst the trash.

"What the—" in a last minute move, Sakura launched herself forward — urging Yato to run.

What she hadn't expected was to see four other men closing off the alley.

The bald man gripped her by the hair before throwing her forward — her face colliding with the edge of the dumpster, a wave of pain consuming her head. With a loud cry, she gripped the edge to prop herself up before he grabbed her shoulder and threw her to the cement.

" _Mama_!" Yato cried, struggling against the grasp of the shorter male.

The men cackled.

"Leave him alone!" Sakura screamed, "please let him go!"

The stiff backhand of the bald man hit her on her opposite cheek.

Blood filled her mouth.

"What are we going to do with them?" one of the other males questioned once she was restrained, "—and someone shut that kid up!"

The bald male kept his grubby hand stiffly on her restrained arms, "that your kid?" he growled at her.

It happened slowly, a new dizziness washed over her, "yes, let him go!" she pleaded, the pain in her face threatened to force her to the ground, he tossed her forward — and by the slip of her wrist she landed on her shoulder.

He kicked her in the stomach.

Unable to breathe, dazed she watched as they pointed a gun towards Yato.

_No._

"St..Stop!" she croaked, helpless anger coursed through her as she tried to lift herself off the floor.

What all men failed to notice was the lone Uchiha atop of the roof, silenced rifle in hand.

" _Fuck_! They found us!"

They dropped — only a few were able to drag out their guns in time for retaliation, but Madara and his host of men arrived, revolvers in hand. One by one the man atop the roof picked them off, and a flood of relief entered her system.

Dizzy, Sakura weakly lifted herself.

They tossed Yato to the side, the small blond boy cowered in the corner. Sakura feebly half dragged herself to him, he ran towards her and clung to her. With a great amount of effort, she pulled him towards her — a new round of gunfire forced her to the ground, her body slung over his.

More sirens.

" **Sakura**!" the angry voice called after her.

More yelling.

She couldn't focus.

All she could hear was the sharp popping of bullets.

The pertinence of death fell over the secluded alley.

When the sound of the bullets stopped, she looked up to see Madara and his men disarming the remaining men of the Yakuza.

Slowly, he made his way towards her.

He leaned down to touch her shoulder, a raw anger transformed his normally regal features. The heavy air of irate loathing emitted from him, and she couldn't stop herself from being scared of the man that held an entity of power in his hand. His eyes were ablaze with a new presence, a livid anger that flashed before her - and a part of her felt it's familiarity.

She  _knew_  these eyes.

The devil stared down at her.

"Who did this?"

Slowly, she motioned towards the man.

Madara helped her up carefully, holding her close to him.

With her hand weakly gripped in Yato's, she limped towards Shisui, Madara still held her up — keeping his attention focused on the three men left. They kept their firm resolve, their chins up high in retaliation.

Dead bodies of the men caught in the unsuspecting gunfire forced her to cover Yato's eyes — Shisui frowned, and she could see the lament of apology in his eyes as he helped her to stay upright once Madara handed her over.

The Uchiha clan patriarch ignored the sirens a street away.

He ignored the hurry of his clan members.

Izuna smirked in the background, gun poised to shoot.

Madara pulled the knife from his pocket.

Once, twice, he stabbed the bald man in the gut, twisting the knife and rearing him close enough to shove his elbow into the man's face, "you see what you did?" he seethed, pointing to Sakura.

She kept Yato faced away from the scene.

Part of her wanted it to stop.

"Scum."

He kicked him when he fell, the brute clutching his side as he started to bleed out.

"Izuna — pull him to the curb."

The bald man quivered, "no!"

Izuna forcefully pressed his teeth against the curb, "open your fucking jaw, pig!"

Shisui sighed, "Sakura-chan, you don't have to watch."

She couldn't look away.

She had to know.

Madara slammed his heel into the back of the whimpering man's head.

The first time elicited the pathetic howls of a man's jaw breaking.

The second time it killed him, and she didn't blink.

On their way to the hospital, she gripped Yato — the hospital would call the authorities to find his parents.

Beside her, Madara sat — his simmering anger easing with her safety.

As if she were an outsider looking at the scene, she watched his hand protectively cover her own, entwining their fingers together.

The tired part of her let him.

Another wanted to let the devil suffocate her in his presence.

xox  
_Two Days Later  
Children's Hospital_

Tsunade glared at her former apprentice, "why the hell did you get involved?"

Sakura answered too many questions in the past forty-eight hours.

Her voice felt raw from explaining what happened to the multitude of police that needed answers.

The downtown hospital was inundated with patients from the tragedy, calling for her hospital to take the patients they no longer had room for.

"I don't know," she muttered groggily, "I didn't  _plan_  on them doing that, y'know."

Her shishou shook her head and administered her a new IV, "you're lucky you're alive. Those bombs…I'm just glad they killed each other and the police were able to handle it," the hard voice of the woman that taught her almost everything she knew was an odd sort of comfort.

Sakura stayed silent, relishing in this quiet time she had to herself.

Ino was a nonstop companion, only leaving to freshen up.

Naruto practically lived here the first day, and it took her and Hinata to convince him to go home.

_"Really! Naruto I'm fine, it's just some scrapes and bruises!" she waved him off, Hinata took the time to knit her a small shawl to keep her warm that she kept strewn over her lap._

_"Mmmm, alright Sakura-chan. But your face-!"_

_"Will heal, trust me."_

Sakura shook off the entire event.

"How do you think they got those guns?" Tsunade huffed.

Sakura kept her eyes on the skyline outside, "…I don't know."

Lies.

"Well according to the news, they did it in public to make a statement to the other factions of the Yakuza, scum. Don't we have strict anti-gang laws?" Her shishou continued her tirade, and it took the nurses coming in to request her to pull her away from Sakura's tired ear.

_Yato's mother came running into her room after collecting him at the hospital._

_"Thank you, thank you!" she fell to the ground in her hospital room, kneeling before her — grateful for the safety of her son._

_Sakura blushed scarlet, "no-please! Get up, ma'am!"_

_The woman who's name she learned was Izeal gave her a business card, cupping it in her hands, "please, if you ever need anything - please call me, you're an angel, Ms. Haruno."_

In the end, all she wanted was a hug from Yato and his mother, Sakura had the sinking feeling that she had been caught in the destruction of the Yakuza, but fortunately they were reunited and both safe. She flipped the business card once to gloss over it -  _Izeal Hyako, Attorney at Law._

Truthfully, by now she wanted to go home. The only reason she was still being restrained to the hospital room was because her shishou refused to release her until she was sure there was no internal bleeding.

xox  
_Three Days Later_

Madara arrived early each morning after Ino left for work — this time a large bouquet of blue lilies were in his hand with a balloon.

Her chest fluttered.

He set aside the flowers and took a seat by her bedside.

"Thank you," she offered with a small smile, "but you didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he shot down her humble nature, "how are you feeling today?"

Sakura stretched her shoulders, "I feel a lot better. Nothing that some pain killers won't take care of for the next few days, what I really want is to go to  _my_  bed."

Madara shook his head with a small laugh, quickly categorizing this woman as crazy, "you're a lot tougher than you look."

She glared at him, "I don't look tough?"

The look on his face spoke volumes, "whatever," she pouted, until she realized that since she was taken to the hospital she didn't have a chance to thank him.

"I never thanked you for coming so quickly…" she could vividly remember his large hand covering hers, the pure anger in his eyes — his attention to her safety.

With these thoughts that plagued her, the detective's words rung between her ears.

_Careful who you associate with, Ms. Haruno._

"And I would let someone I promised to protect get hurt? You doubt my nobility, don't you?" he kept his eyes trained on her, and she hated the way it felt like a magnetic pull to look away.

She fished for a response to his words, but the intuitive part of her  _knew_  who this man was. Not just the mafia man that killed people, but something much more reflexive that felt natural. "I don't doubt you," she kept firm to her words, "—but I have to ask you something."

"Shoot," he drawled.

"What are you expecting of me? I just broke my engagement off with Sasuke, in the past month I've seen more than I would have ever wanted to. I've seen men get killed. I appreciate  _everything_ you have done for me, so please don't take it as me being ungrateful," she paused, nearly consumed by her own thoughts, "but you can't expect me to be with you."

He contemplated her words, and she could see the flare of the challenge enticing him, but the way he looked at her undressed her mind, "I don't expect anything of you," he finally answered.

"—But I know you feel it. I see it when you look at me, I notice it when you touch me," a wry smile painted itself onto his face — highlighting the refined, handsome male that had women falling at his feet, "at the gala I met a Ms. Haruno Sakura, but saw you as  _my_ wife. I saw long days lounging on a beach, oddly I even saw our children. Does it make sense? Of course not. Is it fair to Sasuke? No. But don't try and keep denying what's here, Sakura."

She choked on his words.

From any other man it would have felt rushed. From any other man it would have sounded spurious, but he managed to make the words dance off his tongue in such a straight-forward manner she couldn't search for a veiled lie in his speech.

"But why?" she needed this to make sense, to  _one_  of them.

"You're a smart woman," he leaned forward and reached for her hand, "the business I'm involved in disgusts you, as it should. But I swear from this point forward I won't let  _anyone_  harm you," he clenched his jaw — and she remembered what he did to that man. She could see the strain of guilt tied between them, how he felt responsible for dragging her into this mess.

With her bruised face and body, weakly she gripped his hand.

Their fingers enclosed.

Her hand fit perfectly in his own.

He brought her hand to his lips, relieved with her safety — releasing a tired breath and kissing the back of her knuckles, "I swear I'll kill them, they will  _never_  touch you again."

Sakura had seen this before. Her chest ached, feebly she shuddered air to tie herself to this moment.

Madara pinned her gaze.

He was going to kiss her.

The scent of cherry blossoms surrounded her.

The pain on her forehead flared.

She fought it.

" _Ah_ —!" she gripped at the empty space.

"Sakura?" he stood up suddenly and leaned forward as she began clutching at her head. The grip on his hand tightened and she began to cry out.

"It's the pain again?" he let go of her hand and pressed the button on her bed to call for the nurses.

"No!" she gasped, "don't leave me!"

She couldn't bear it, she grasped his sleeve and fainted.

_xox_  
_Feudel Japan_  
_Uchiha Compound_

_"_ _The garden is magnificent right now, isn't it?" she chimed happily to Madara who held her hand loosely in his own._

_He looked worried, and she couldn't help but stop and lean forward on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek to help ease his tension._

_"_ _Stop," he ground out._

_Sakura frowned, "is something wrong?" she asked tentatively, she knew his father had a talk with him — and ever since his parents left the man that she knew was held captive somewhere within him that she couldn't reach._

She watched them through a foggy lens. Like a hazy dream that she wouldn't remember in the morning.

_Madara couldn't look at her, he shook his head and dropped her hand, "what do you think you're doing?"_

_The young girl stopped, jovial nature lost — "I'm talking to you, although it would be nice if you reciprocated. Is someone still brooding?"_

_He glared at her, "leave me."_

_Her face fell, suddenly aware of the dark nature that emitted off of him, "why…?"_

Sakura wanted to reach forward, she could  _feel_  everything about this long haired girl. This was a dream. It had to be a dream. The girl was dressed in a simple flowing red and white kimono, her hair pinned up in an extravagant style that Sakura only saw at festivals.

" _You understand I_ ** _bought_** _you. Stop with this frivolous attitude. You will not be my wife, nor anything after I get married — you will be sent away, do you understand? You spread your legs for me each night, the day you get pregnant I_ ** _will_** _send you to the caste villages," his voice raised, frightening Sakura._

_He hadn't been this forceful since he first bought her._

**Hate me** **, I need you to hate me**.

Why could she hear everything?

_"_ _Ma—"_

_"_ _Stop!" he growled, "your familiarity with my person ends here. I have already removed your belongings from my chamber, what did you ever think would come of this?" he finally yelled._

This felt too real.

She could see the young girl begin to cry through the stained glass of her dream— but she couldn't make out their faces. He looked to be wearing a yakama with traditional armor — black hair kissing his hips, who was he?

_"_ _But you said—"_

_"_ _I know what I said, you're a fool to have believed it. Do you think that I could ever possibly love a_   **whore**? _"_

_Sakura kept her face hidden, "please let me go," she said through her tears._

_He laughed and roughly gripped her chin, forcing her to look into his black eyes, he could see the pain and loathing beginning to build behind her stark green eyes, and needed her to truly hate him, "hate me — but remember you still belong to_ ** _me._** "

Her dream turned black, as if she were being sucked away and the only thing she could hear were the soft cries of the young girl.

xox

_Present_  
_Kyoto, Japan_  
_Children's Hospital_

"What are you doing here?" the solemn voice of Sasuke filtered into the room.

He stood at the doorway leading into the hospital room, Madara had been reading the newspaper — his men weren't involved in the incident, which meant that the Yakuza had a settlement that fell through which sparked the defection. Funnily enough, he had been planning a retaliation against the downtown district faction for the ambush at Mirago, but they seemed to be taking care of that themselves.

Madara peered up from the paper and watched Sasuke step into the room, his eyes trailing over Sakura.

"I should be asking you the same thing," he answered simply — keeping his attention keen on the tired Uchiha.

It looked as if he just got finished crying, Madara noticed.

"She's my fiancé," Sasuke said.

" _Ex-_ fiance, or are you forgetting already?" He couldn't help but think how pathetically easy Sasuke made all of this, and a low hum of his possessive nature became increasingly irritated the closer Sasuke got to her bed.

Sasuke kept his hands in his pockets, refusing to acknowledge his statement, "how is she?"

"She'll be alright, they fear she may have a concussion seeing as she fainted earlier, but all of her scans turned out ok," Madara answered easily. After she gripped onto him, he canceled the rest of his events for the day and handed them over to Shisui — deciding to stay by her side to greet her when she woke up.

A wistful frown twitched on Sasuke's lips, "she's always been prone to fainting," he muttered wryly — remembering the times in grade school when she would try and gather the courage to talk to him and faint once he got too close.

Madara perked his attention at the statement, recognizing their rich history, "has she? I wouldn't know."

"You wouldn't," Sasuke ground out, "you don't know _anything_  about her."

"This isn't the time, Sasuke," the clan leader had little patience for this discussion in her presence.

He ignored the warning, "you expect me to stand here while you try and fuck my fiancé? Of all the women you find interest in it's  _her_?"

Madara would have laughed if not for the steady beep of her heart monitor, "you already lost her, or is that not resonating in your head? You  _beat_ her," the sharp tone of his voice changed — anger rising in the perimeter of his body, "you continued to ignore her, threatened her  _after_ I explicitly told you to leave her alone — this is the outcome."

The younger clan member kept quiet, unable to refute the points brought to him, but he felt sick seeing the way Madara kept her company, "I'm not giving up. I'm going to fix things," Sasuke smirked, "do you understand how long we've known each other? How much we've gone through?" he whispered harshly, "you think it won't be easy for me to get her back?"

"Will it? It took you three days to visit her in the hospital, you're severely doubting her — nor did you answer her phone call when she needed you," Madara reminded him.

"I was in the middle of opening the port operation that  _you_  put me in charge of!" their hushed whispers were getting louder — Sakura stirred in her bed, effectively dousing their rising tones.

Madara sighed, "I'm starting to find this conversation boring, cousin. If you feel threatened by me, so bet it. Know my intentions are better than what you assume, but also understand that she  _will_ be mine."

He spun his words into the form of a promise.

Sasuke clenched his jaw, refusing to cave and give up the one individual who altruistically never faltered in her view and love for him throughout the entirety of his life, the stability she provided was a foundation he never knew he had. "I should have listened to Itachi," Sasuke muttered.

From his back pocket he set down her engagement ring with a card attached, Madara watched him evenly before glancing at his watch, "maybe you should have, but you can leave now."

If not for being his superior, if not for being the head of the clan with the eyes of their blood watching, if not for Sakura being in the room, Sasuke would have fought him and went for his blood.

Madara could see it clearly, and it excited him.

Sasuke left, but not before sparing one last glance towards the woman asleep on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ~~  
> Let me know what you think~


	15. Midnight's Run

**_Past, pt 8_ **

* * *

 

 

 _Feudal Japan_  
_Great Senju Bridge_

" _Oi_ ," a voice resonates above her.

Someone is kicking her with their foot, and with an aggravated grumble, Sakura turns on her shoulder — "oi, fucking twerp!" the voice yells.

Sakura opens her eyes, only to stare up at a man half dressed with a scythe in hand and the oddest pendant hanging off his neck. With a start, she scrambles and presses herself against the tree she fell asleep on.

He's frowning at her, "I'm not one for fucking helping people, but the army is going to walk straight through here — so you might want to wake up."

Still half-asleep and confused, she looks around and realizes that she must have fallen asleep that night after running with her mare away from that village. "Wha…When?"

The strange man shrugs, "like I would fucking know — anyways, you should really watch out for thieves."

In his hand, her pouch of coins dangles beside him.

"Hey!" she moves to get up and snatch it from him, but he towers over her and hangs it high above his head, a devilish sneer on his face. "Give that back!"

He cackles, "listen, kid — I don't know what the fuck you're doing out here, but I need a favor."

Sakura stops struggling, glaring at the broad chest in front of her.

Isn't he _cold?_

"What?" she huffs, finding it futile to try and get her coins back by force.

He leans into her face, and for a steady moment she freezes — a similar scene making her skin crawl, "—the Senju army is going to come this way, and I need a sacrifice. If you want your coins back, you need to lure one of those fuckers my way, got it?"

_Sacrifice?_

The look of bafflement must be on her face because he rolls his eyes and grabs his pendant, "do you _not_ know of Jashin, you fucking pagan?"

Part of her wonders about his sanity, but not having any money for her journey east would be idiotic, "fine, but why can't you do it yourself?"

"You idiot, you think some high-strung Senju warrior is going to come talk with me like nothing? Now, hurry the fuck up!"

Sakura had little time to object before he was leading her to the amassed soldiers, "but how—?"

xox

She could hear the struggle behind the bushes, a loud humming, a mantra of a language she had never heard before, followed by the sadistic laughing of the man that woke her up.

He emerged some time later, eyes ablaze with an insanity chilled her soul. If it weren't for her coins, she would have ran. He licked the blood off of his blade, and a cold, inward part of her _knew_ he killed that innocent soldier.

_Kami, what did she do?_

"Follow me, twerp," he growled, and from his hip she could see her pouch hanging — all it would take would be for her to stab him in the neck, grab it and run back to her mare. He turned to face her, a snide smirk on his face, "and don't even fucking think about it."

They settled themselves at the outskirts of the bridge — by now with the hold up, a string of merchants and caravans had set up camp waiting for the bridge to be pulled down, creating a makeshift village out of an assortment of hundreds of merchants and travelers.

They settled themselves against some rocks, the man with magenta eyes scared her — but she needed her money, "we made a _deal!_ " she reminded him, attempting to make herself seem sort of intimidating.

"Tch, I know — I know," he grabbed the pouch off his hip and dangled it in front of her, "but first I need to ask you some questions."

Sakura huffed, "no, you _killed_ that soldier — didn't you?"

He smiled, wide and menacing, "so what? I needed a sacrifice! Not like it's any blood on your fucking hands."

She didn't understand him at all, "sacrifice for _what?_ I helped you murder a soldier! A _Senju_ no less! What happens when they find his body?"

Guilt swam through her, "-he has a family, what if he had children waiting at home for him!"

The man shrugged, wiping his scythe of the blood. Which ironically should have been more noticeable, but with the bridge drawn, it was little wonder all the mercenaries and murderers in the region were here, and no one batted an eye. "You think that man hasn't killed anyone? You think he's fucking innocent of killing others, raiding villages, all on the command of his leader?"

She couldn't refute his point, but being an accessory to murder didn't sit well with her - who was she becoming?

"Besides, it's for Jashin-sama!" he announced, a new light flickered within him.

Sakura felt like hitting him, "I don't care about whatever god you have that requires human sacrifices, give me my pouch and let me go!"

He yawned, ignoring her pathetic attempt at a declaration, "here, you fucking twerp — but tell me why you're going east first."

Pouch in her lap, Sakura didn't expect him to actually give it back so suddenly.

"I don't have to tell you anything," she clutched the pouch to her lap.

The man glared, "listen, I don't know _why_ Jashin wanted me to help a piece of shit like you, but he wants me to help you get to Madara," he paused to set his scythe down, "that's where you're going, correct?'

Her chest clenched, and she kept her face void of a reaction.

_How does he know?_

He laughed, "surprised? What was your name, Salura…No, Sakura - right?"

A crushing fear began to weigh down on her, "how do you know so much?"

"First of all, you make one shitty male — any hot blooded male that can spring an erection would be able to fucking tell. Second — Jashin told me to find you, and guess fucking what? You were asleep where I knew you would be, so stop with the innocence and tell me why you're going to that assholes place."

And so she told him.

Everything.

How she had been bought by Madara. had been given a chance of freedom by Tobirama. How she wanted to save Tobirama, how she couldn't sit by and _wait_ for Madara to kill him, how she would have given anything to stop the Great War.

The male mulled over her gracious tale, and before long he was frowning, "what a cock. What does a little girl think she can do to stop this war?"

Sakura wanted to leave, but she had a distinct feeling he would only follow her.

"Listen, twerp — I don't really give a shit about this mess you're in, I only follow orders from Jashin, and I still can't fucking figure out why he has me wasting my time on this shit, but as a devout holy man I don't question these types of things — anyway, the name is Hidan."

He jut his hand out for her to shake it.

"Why should I trust you?" she asked, a reasonable question — but something about him and his fanatic nature made his words valid.

"Because you obviously fucking need protection on your journey there, and I need help with my sacrifices — a symbiotic relationship, twerp."

An odd memory wanted to choke her, something happened that she couldn't quite remember — but after her crazed panic attack at the inn in the trading village, she couldn't deny that he was right.

She shook his hand.

A sign of their mutual understanding.

xox

 _Uchiha Stronghold_  
_Western Perimeter_  
_Dark Cells_

Madara climbed down the steps to the dark cells.

The guard on duty nodded in his direction, and the clan leader appeared in front of the dim cell, staring down at the Senju in the corner —- looking better than the handmaidens had described a week ago.

"Tobirama," his thick voice was curt and even.

The white leopard looked upward towards the man he had grown to loathe, but refused to respond.

"Ignoring me won't help your situation," Madara offered, apathetic eyes staring down at him.

Tobirama shuffled, in the past week his leg healed considerably with the gentle hand of the healer, and for the life of him the warrior could not decipher why Madara would allow him the prosperity of life, "what do you want?"

"I have news you might be interested in," the words were slim, drenched in ulterior motives.

One was to never trust the words of Madara Uchiha, many men knew this.

"What?" he asked dimly.

"Our little flower will be arriving within the next few weeks, and considering your… _Past_ relation with her, I'm offering you the chance of freedom," Madara drawled, his presence vibrated around the cells, but the younger Senju wished for nothing but his death.

At the mention of Sakura, Tobirama bristled unhappily.

Both men cared for the same woman.

In truth, both men _loved_ the same woman.

In different contexts, and in different streams of fate

"Let me guess," the Senju rasped, "I leave once Sakura arrives — and you get to keep here her as a slave again for yourself?"

Madara kept his face level, "she was _never_ a slave here. I love her, and you don't understand half of what we went through." The Uchiha was starting to lose his patience with this conversation.

"Love? You Uchiha have a profound way of showing it considering you treated her like a slave to the point where she _escaped_ from this love you claim to have for her. I've been with her for the past few months and you _know_ what happened between us, which is the only reason you haven't killed me." The insinuation hung between his words, and Tobirama thrived on the way this man tried to contrive what happened between himself and Sakura.

There were never simple answers with this man.

Hashirama told him as such.

Underneath the underneath.

Madara narrowed his eyes, "careful, Senju."

"Or what?" he shot, "your council knows better than to kill me. But you don't care about that - you know with my death, Sakura will _never_ forgive you."

And there was the unveiled truth.

The clan leader stiffened, but kept his face carefully void of a reaction, "I suppose I should let you know then."

Tobirama raised himself, albeit still weak — but managed to straighten himself, standing nearly as tall as the Uchiha head.

"You didn't research, Senju. As you must imagine, the yin seal she wears is more prominent than you'd think, I was always interested in it — but figured it was nothing more than symbolic for her first blood. It's representative of the Kanazawa village, but there were girls sent there from the Uzumaki families during the subjugation of the Western Rogues that touched their outer perimeter."

The conversations that his father and mother held with the people of Kanazawa came back to him.

_Sakura peaked from behind a large tree, staring at him with wide-sea foam eyes._

_Tobirama stared at her, but kept himself glued to his brothers._

_She smiled at him, large and bright and welcoming._

"So the Uzumaki were sending their girls to Kanazawa?" What a farce, he wanted to scoff if it were in him, "then why did the Kanazawa keep themselves limited in our territory? They came from the lands far north and settled in our region under a testament of safety."

Lying.

He had to be lying.

"You should have probably found her father first," Madara murmured, striking Tobirama with the recognition of what he was planning.

"You plan to _wed_ her," Tobirama breathed in a low snarl.

"I was wondering when you'd catch on — you were almost the smarter brother," Madara watched the younger Senju piece together the story, basking in his realization. "—Before the settlers came to be known as the Kanazawa, a portion attempted to find refuge with the Uzumaki…And as it is, Sakura is the daughter of a defecting branch."

The world tilted unevenly for Tobirama.

"Then Kazuya…?"

"Is not her real father. I spoke with him in length a few days ago." Slowly, the smirk splayed itself on Madara's face, "my little flower is nobility, and with our marriage I'll secure the other half of the Uzumaki."

Tobirama couldn't believe it.

"We have Mito's forces, we have their grain, we have everything we need to last through this war!" He gripped the bars, attempting to dislodge them from their hold.

Madara turned to leave, "so be it. But you're here, and your brother is still hiding behind that bridge while you rot."

"You _can't_ marry her," Tobirama growled, punching one of the bars with his knuckles, the pain subdued by his anger, "I won't let you!"

The Uchiha glanced back at him, "will you? I don't think you have much say in the matter, Senju."

Madara left, and with his departure the darkness crept back into the cells.

xox

_Day 4 of their journey_

Sakura's stomach growled so loud, it caused Hidan to stop and burst out laughing.

"It's not funny!" the young woman grumbled, a fierce flush lifting to her cheeks.

It didn't stop him from laughing, "let's get you some food."

She chewed on the rabbit gingerly, engrossed in her task while Hidan stared blankly at her with a bored frown, "could you hurry up? It'll be another moon that we make it east if you eat that slow."

Sakura gulped down her food, accustomed to ignoring his insults, "how come you don't eat?" she wondered curiously.

Hidan tuffed, annoyed that she didn't know already, "I'm immortal, I don't have a need for eating, dipshit."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled none the less.

xox

_Day 10_

They managed to make it past the rolling hills south of the bridge — there was no use in waiting for Hashirama to release it, not until the Senju were prepared, and it would be a bloodbath if they stayed and attempted to cross with the Uchiha waiting on the other side. They would double the journey in length, but at least there was a possibility of them getting east.

Which is how Sakura found herself in possibly the coldest climate imaginable as they trekked further south.

Even Tobirama's furs around her did little to help.

Her odd companion still managed to be unaffected by the harsh climate as he whistled some unknown song and muttered to himself on and off about Jashin.

"Oi, we stop here for the night," he announced and promptly started to work on a fire.

Sakura glanced around the desolate mountain area, " _here_?" she prompted.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" he growled.

With a small sigh, Sakura started a fire, losing herself in the days to come.

xox

_Day 13_

The maniacal laughter echoed in the darkness, and Sakura covered her ears.

Why did she help him with his sacrifices?

This time it was a man that had allegedly raped and murdered two young girls in the neighboring mountain village, the villagers offered them food and lodge if they managed to help capture him.

It wasn't a difficult decision, Hidan jumped to the opportunity.

Which is why Sakura found herself leaning against the face of the mountain, keeping an eye out for the passing traveler as her companion killed the man. All it took was leaving her walking alone with Hidan trailing a ways behind her for the man to creep up behind her. It left her with a sore memory, and the thought of what this man did to those girls harbored a fear and anger in her that she couldn't accurately pinpoint.

_He deserves it. He deserves it._

She kept reminding herself as she could hear Hidan's scythe bludgeon the unsuspecting male.

With a warm fire and a belly full of soup later that night— the mantra of whispering prayers on his lips that night put her into a deep, satisfied sleep.

xox

_Day 19_

Oddly enough, the prospect of him being a pervert didn't translate - the man _hardly_ looked at women, no less her.

"Do you have a wife?" she piped up on day, "or children?"

Hidan scoffed, affronted by the assumption, "fuck no. I'm a man of my religion, I've sworn my vows to Jashin-sama. Women make men weak, and nothing will take away my focus."

Sakura looked forward, sinking into her cloak - envisioning her snow leopard here beside her.

 _Women make men weak -_ she couldn't agree with such a statement.

xox

_Day 25_

The ground leveled out.

The ground leveled out!

Sakura found a new bounce in her steps, they made it past the pass!

Large, rolling fields of grain and kissing forests were a welcomed sight compared to the dreary mountains with little vegetation and even fewer people.

"Stop your fucking dancing, there's something I want to do," Hidan announced.

She stopped mid-step and turned to face him with a hard stare, "you don't need a sacrifice for another five days."

Every ten days he needed a sacrifice.

That's what his religion called for.

Her ground rules were no women or children, and only men that committed heinous crimes that needed retribution, that's how she managed to choke down this psycho's religion.

Hidan glared at her and set down his pack, "don't assume shit, twerp."

Sakura watched him evenly, curious to what he could possibly want other than to fulfill Jashin's command in taking her east, their pace had been relentless the past few weeks and the raw burning of her sore thighs never seemed to end.

"What is it…?" she asked hesitantly.

He tossed her the blade Hiromi gave her with a snide smirk.

Upset with herself that she managed to get tricked once again, she didn't accurately focus on him barreling towards her — scythe in hand.

In a feeble attempt to defend herself, Sakura plummeted to the floor — his scythe pointed at her neck, "you need to learn to defend yourself," he announced, his blade pressing neatly against her jugular.

Sakura huffed, any fear of this man was swallowed by his fanatics and belief in taking her east — and like a coiled snake she sprung upward, shedding her cloak with a small smirk.

"Now you're looking like someone that can actually fucking fight," he commented, "attack me."

By the time they were done, Sakura fell to the floor — body bruised and bloody from his ruthless mentoring. She never knew each step and twist of the body needed to be mechanical, opening up your stronger and weaker sides to your opponent took a high level of concentration she would have never thought about before.

More often than not, she found herself on her back — his scythe the friendly reminder of how frail she was.

Only once did she manage to slice his palm with her blade, with a clever side-step to trick and lure him forward, she used the force of his bodyweight when he lunged, cutting his free hand and almost reaching his neck if it weren't for his quick reflexes.

The satisfied smirk on her face caused him to whistle in appreciation — "you're smarter than you look."

At the end of the day, sweaty and with crusted blood — they looked as if they had murdered someone. The buzz of excitement in her body was enough to calm the raging tidal wave of her memories, if only for a moment.

Tentatively, she wondered if they would train again.

She hated asking for favors, but for the first time since she had taken it upon herself to learn medicine — she felt _alive. "_ Would you… Train me again?" she asked him hesitantly.

Hidan side-eyed her and bit into an apple, marking the sign of spring, "no shit — one day of practice won't do anything for you."

So began the following mornings where they would get up at dawn, and he would teach her.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold  
WesternPerimeter_

On nights such as this, where the rain pelted the home and rocked the trees — many of the old wives would claim that this was the final shedding of winter that would propel the land into spring. Most years, the pivotal storm would only last a few hours, but tonight it grew angry, cracking trees in half and lugging them from the forest floor.

Lightning shot through the sky, and for a moment the light gave way to a figure outside.

Madara kept to his chamber, most of the castle was quiet, save for a few of the late night maids shuffling through the dimly lit halls.

When another rolling cloud of thunder slapped the sky, the Uchiha head kept still — wondering where Sakura could be. Dozens of questions arose, was she safe? Was that religious fanatic keeping her well fed? He imagined her hiding in a cave in this storm, wet and dreary and he longed to bring her back, to breathe life into her once more.

These thoughts forbid him to sleep.

Weary and restless, it almost seemed like a fog when he noticed a figure in the corner of his room.

In one quick motion he shot up, grabbing his katana by his bedside when his muscles froze.

The figure emerged from the shadows, the dying fire cast shadows across a woman's face.

Long, blond hair foreign to the east highlighted itself — but her face remained a moving shadow.

"Wh—Who are you?" he managed to croak, paralyzed in his momentum.

She took another step forward and put down her drenched hood, revealing a strikingly beautiful face.

With the tilt of her head, she reached forward and ran her knuckles across his cheek, causing him to reel back — recoiling from this strange woman's touch.

"It's a shame," her voice little more than whisper among the shadows, "Marise always prayed you would be different than the others."

Anger shot through him, but he still couldn't move, "who are you!" he growled.

"I'm a watcher of this land, and a protector of a woman you've managed to ruin," her voice was delicate, almost sweet enough to ease his tension — but at the mention of Sakura, Madara attempted to lunge forward.

The woman was almost in his grasp, but a magnetic force held him back, "please don't make this harder than it needs to be, Madara- ** _sama_** ," the words swayed on her lips, sarcastic in their delivery.

"—It must be easy, to kill all of those innocent people — get rewarded for your brutality, and become one of the most powerful men, hmm?" she sat on the edge of his bed, pulling out a small vile from her cloak.

"Leave, _now!_ " he commanded.

The woman swept her gaze over him, "why? You hold no bearing over this conversation — little more you can hardly move. Don't test a woman of my age, you may find yourself joining your parents."

The tug on his limbs constricted, and a new pressure found it's way to his neck, black tendrils crept around his neck, keeping a tight hold on him — _testing_ him.

As a seasoned man of war, he knew better than to test his limits now.

"What do you want?" he finally relented, eyes darkened by her threat.

The woman stood, carefully placing the vile on a table, "I want nothing from you other than the protection of my daughter," she turned to face him, and the striking emerald eyes akin to Sakura's suddenly made sense.

He quieted, his sense of urgency latent to what this woman wanted to tell him.

"As you already know, Sakura is… _Special_ ," the woman's voice quivered, "bound by the laws of our world, she was supposed to have a different outcome…Though I suppose fate is fickle in that way."

A soft sigh breathed through her lips, "even _I_ will never understand it."

He didn't understand, and he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

The storm continued to rage, and the woman cried with it — soft, thick tears slid down her cheeks, "she was born on a night such as this. I should have known then that she would inherit a power greater than mine. I wished for her to be bound by human governance's, a simple life that would make her happy."

Wistful, wishful , and poetically sad — he had never seen anything like this before.

She reminded him of his own mother.

"…What do I need to do?" he whispered through the fog.

She turned to face him, "I'm afraid you have been cursed, Uchiha. You will lose _everything_ dear to you, and will continue until you understand the decisions make affect a continent. The great houses will fall, and yours will be the first. Your family's power has reached too far," she paused, bringing her hand to her chest, "…there will come a day that you must set your pride aside and beg."

The idea alone was foreign, and he would have mocked her if it weren't for the tendrils choking him.

A curse?

Only witches and black magic spoke of curses.

Though the sincerity of her words replicated the words of his mother, and he remained quiet.

"Please protect my daughter — I…Will no longer be of this world soon, for her power is growing each day," she paused to watch the storm through his balcony.

_Protect her? From what?_

Questions littered his mind, but he found he couldn't speak.

The world started to dance in black.

She moved towards him, "I'm almost out of time," she whispered, her fingers touched his forehead gently.

"I would wish for a better man to be tied by the thread of fate," tears fell from her sea foam eyes.

"—Please…Come to me on that day."

She kissed his forehead, and a velvet blanket of black consumed him.

_Sleep._

xox

_Day 30_

They joined a caravan heading east, trekking through Uzumaki territory.

By now, they were known as the strange duo involving a man with a scythe and a boy with short pink hair.

Call it exhaustion, or the tired pull on her arms and legs each day from their morning training sessions, but Sakura found herself struggling to keep her eyes open as she sat atop her mare.

"What is it, twerp?" Hidan fell into step beside her, a small etch of concern marring his face.

Sakura closed her eyes, "I'm not sure," she murmured.

Hidan pulled her reigns to halt her horse, "I don't like stopping, but you look like you're about to fucking keel over."

She could keep going.

She _had_ to keep going.

It was already a full moon cycle since she had left the Senju estate.

Who knows what Madara has done to Tobirama since then.

A sick part of her didn't want to think about it.

"I can go," she bit back the drabs of her exhaustion.

He frowned, which caused Sakura to laugh dryly, "don't tell me you're _worried_ about me."

Silence ensued, which was odd for him, and he shook his head, "don't compliment yourself. I have a duty to get you east assigned by Jashin-sama, and I can't have you fucking die on the way there when we're so close."

She couldn't make out the last of his words, because she fell unconscious.

xox

_Midnight's Run_

They stared at each other.

Similar eyes.

Similar hair.

Two different people that looked identical.

A mosaic glass stood in-between them.

Their hands lifted to touch the cool fixture.

A third woman entered the glass structure.

A wry smile kissed her beautiful face.

"Do you know where you two are?" her voice bounced softly off the walls. Long, blond hair with ashes of silver glimmered within the glass room — and she stared at the two halves of the same person.

The two similar women stared at each other, and then the evangelical woman dissolved the glass between the two, caressing both of their faces with the palms of her hand. It felt like a dream, one that would break in an instant if either of them moved.

"You both are crossed for time," the woman said sadly.

She turned to the short haired woman and brushed the loose strands off her face, "you have a duty, child — one that will affect our lineage."

Sakura couldn't find her voice, and she felt a strong connection with both of these women.

Hesitantly, she glanced at herself.

Her twin wore odd clothing, her hair was styled much differently, and there didn't seem to be a blemish on her skin — compared to her half-beaten body and chopped hair. "Lineage?" she questioned.

The blond woman nodded, but pulled away from them both.

"I don't have time to explain, you both will return soon."

"Return?" her clean self wondered.

With a sad sigh, the blond woman began to dissolve, "we will meet here again, I promise."

The world dissolved for both of the women.

The glass returned, building a wall between them.

For a moment, they both reached out — attempting to lodge themselves together, a magnetic pull forced them together, and they _knew_ each other. From the pits of their being, they were intertwined.

But why?

Sakura had little time to wonder, because the glass cracked and a world of black and blue shimmering lights swallowed her.

xox

_Day 31_

She woke to the smell of cooked pork.

Her mouth watered and Sakura lifted herself from the bed, sputtering for air.

"Oi, what the fuck!" her companion yelled, patting her on the back, "drink this!"

Sakura guzzled the water, consuming the substance like she hadn't drank any for weeks.

When her throat didn't feel scratchy, she set down the canteen and focused.

That dream….

It felt so _real_.

"You feeling better? You cost us a fucking day, I hope you know that," Hidan grumbled to her, leaning lazily against the wall to her left.

Sakura glanced around at the unfamiliar room, "I've been asleep for a day?"

"Yes! After you fucking fell off your horse, you hit your head on the ground — you stupid too now or what?"

She couldn't take the time to come back at him, her head throbbed still and that dream felt disgustingly real. "Lineage…" she murmured.

Vaguely, she wondered who the woman dress in unfamiliar clothing could be.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold  
_Western Perimeter__

"What concerns you now, brother?" Izuna drawled, sword in hand.

The spring sun shone down on them, and the turn of weather after the storm brought the animals from their burrows, namely the two brothers who decided that a fun sparring session could ease the tension of the incoming battles.

Nothing would happen until Hashriama lowered the bridge.

Coward.

Plus, Madara couldn't shake the hazy dream from the other night.

He remembered it in vivid detail, and the following morning he had the castle turned upside down in an attempt to find that woman. He sent several hawks with messages to find the religious extremist, but still didn't receive an answer.

"It's nothing," he murmured — they had preparations with Izuna's wedding to plan, in little under a week the Hyuga heiress would be arriving, his advisors sought to planning out the details, leaving the two brothers free to their own devices. In truth, it still bothered him how the Hyuga suddenly dragged themselves from their dreary caves in the north, but their ample supply of grain, steel, and men were beneficial. His father knew that much, but Madara still distrusted the pretentious clan.

Of course, he never had time to stall — the generals sat in the council room throughout the mornings to plan their strategy once the bridge came down.

A wedding during a war was usually a stroke of weakness, but not now.

Hashirama was providing them with ample opportunity to gather their forces.

With his uncle leading the vanguard at the mouth of the bridge, that faux bravado of the Senju would cripple as supplies wouldn't reach them that far west. The ravine was a blessing and a curse, protecting them from outsiders but negating any possibility of a supply line.

"In a week you'll be a wedded man," Madara lurched forward, nearly knocking Izuna off of his feet with the severe strength of his force, but stood fast. Where Madara stood thick and muscled, Izuna kept a leaner frame — his mouth taut in a smirk as he spun out of the hold.

"No thanks to you, though I hear she's a beauty — so I suppose I shouldn't be too angry," Izuna relented the following day — respecting his brother's decision. It was the best possible course of action for them.

They would be uniting the north, something that no other territory managed to do in centuries as the Hyuga kept to themselves.

In a dance of swords, they had their blades pointed at each other's necks, a similar wildness in their eyes, "be careful brother, I may produce a heir before you."

Madara smirked, and both men laughed heartily at the jab — and once Izuna lowered his guard, the older Uchiha swiped his legs beneath his younger brother, causing him to fall on his back — Madara chuckled and kept his sword pointed at him, "don't take your attention off your opponent, Izuna."

This felt… _Normal._

"—And trust me, you won't."

They laughed again, deciding they needed to help the advisors with planning the extravagant event, and Madara couldn't help but feel the pull of the woman's words from his dream.

"… _There will come a day that you must set your pride aside and beg_."

xox

_Day 55_

Almost two months.

It took them almost two months.

But she could see the stronghold from atop the hill they were on sitting on her mare — different than Madara's compound, this stood high above the ground, a black castle-like structure. It took her breath away, from here she could feel her heart threatening to explode.

"Are you nervous or something?" Hidan piped up.

"N..No," she bit at him, albeit too quickly — he rolled his eyes and leaned his scythe casually over his shoulder.

There was a commotion of excitement.

Tents lit up the outside of the stronghold, workers and proud flags of the Uchiha flapped in the wind, accompanied by the caravans dedicated to the Hyuga.

_The Hyuga…_

"Oh, kami," she breathed in — realizing this must be the wedding celebration she overheard — the union of such two powerful houses would create a stir, and this was no exception. People shouted directions to one another, and the hundreds of soldiers stood at their posts — guarding the monumental event.

_Tobi…_

Focusing on her goal, they surged forward — Hidan whistling happily at her side.

She was not presentable.

Her hair was still cut choppily, they decided she needed to keep it short to prevent attracting too much attention to them — her clothes were torn and ripped, she bathed in a lake _days_ ago — her skin was sun kissed due to their journey leading into the longer spring days, and where the soft curves of her body hugged her, muscles now gilded beneath her skin — but she felt _strong_.

Out of a nervous habit, she clutched the sword at her hilt — she had a plan.

They made it this whole way, she couldn't lose herself to fear.

Not from _him_.

She was not the same timid girl that left here.

"Do you think they'll let us in?" Sakura questioned her amicable companion.

Several soldiers started walking towards them on their clear descent to the stronghold.

"Fuck, I guess we'll find out."

They both gripped their weapons uneasily.

xox

_Wedding Hall_

The feasting hall was decorated for royalty, the mixture of blood red and dark blues for the intermixing of the Hyuga and Uchiha was a monumental affair. Hundreds of noble faces sat within the hall, rotisserie pig, lavender yams, and savory rye bread lifted into the air. The men and women conversed dressed in their extravagant _montsuki's_ and kimonos.

Hanabi Hyuga and Izuna Uchiha spoke amicably with one another, raised on a higher platform seating above all the others.

The only person higher than them was Madara, and he stared down at the familiar and unfamiliar faces of those belonging to the Uchiha and Hyuga respectively. The wedding had to be postponed due to the heiress being delayed by a sudden family death — at first it had annoyed him, wondering about the punctual nature of a clan that deemed them unworthy of saving face with to keep their allotted date.

Still, he waited.

He was never one for such events.

A rich, silk montsuki hung over his thick shoulders, embroidered with an intricate pattern of the Uchiha sigil — black and red stained the expensive fabric, and he took another sip of his sake.

One of his servants peaked from beyond the large oak door, catching his attention.

With a fresh platter of sake in his hand, his eyes requested permission.

Madara needed a refill, with a permissive nod the servant walked up with a straight back — "Madara-sama, there is a visitor requesting to see you at the gates."

He frowned, glaring at his servant, "is this really what you pulled my attention for? Tell them they can wait until tomorrow."

The servant bowed, "the person in name is a _Haruno Sakura,_ she claims it's urgent."

Seven days ago.

A week ago he received a hawk from the fanatic saying they were barely in Uchiha territory.

It should have taken them another half moon cycle to reach the stronghold.

Nervousness didn't press him, but at the mention of the woman he had been waiting near half a year for — he gripped his sake cup and nodded, "I'll go — bring her to the foyer."

The world tilted around the hard Uchiha head.

It would be rude to suddenly excuse himself — but he didn't care for such affairs to begin with.

He stood abruptly, and many heads turned towards him — wondering where the great war general could possibly need to go.

"Madara!" Izuna questioned him, and their _rida_ left in a flurry of robes.

xox

Sakura stood nervously in the foyer.

She couldn't breathe.

She wished for the comfort of Tobirama's arms.

Or her dreams.

Where the celestial woman would smile at her from afar.

Sakura clutched absently at her chest, afraid she might vomit from the nerves budding in her stomach.

_No._

She was stronger than this.

Hidan seemed unaffected by the lavish castle, but she could see the agitation on his face now that he didn't have his scythe on him.

 _Madara_.

The man that stole her purity.

The man that _claimed_ her.

The man that she fell in love with.

The same man that _caste_ her away.

The man that consumed a part of her being.

The man that was enjoying his _wedding_ feast.

The man that would always hold a deep, tragic part of her soul.

" **Sakura** ," his thick, familiar voice resonated from the top of the steps.

Slowly, her eyes lifted to meet his.

Onyx and viridescent.

Her chest threatened to explode.

"... _Madara_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) montsuki: the male equivalent of a yukata. Used for traditional events.  
> Thank you for reading, let me know what you think ~~


	16. Introduction to Hell

_**Present, pt 8** _

* * *

 

_Kyoto, Japan  
_ _Sakura's Apartment_

The wedding ring blinked at her from her kitchen table.

Accompanied with it, the card Sasuke left while she had been asleep at the hospital stared at her.

In truth, she hadn't opened it yet.

Each morning he left her a message on her phone and texted her.

_I hope you're feeling better, call me when you can._

The familiar name on her phone felt  _normal_ , and before everything —- his daily messages when they were together after he would wake up while she was at the hospital working served to reminder of their intertwined past.

She glared down at her coffee cup, thoroughly annoyed at his audacity and the life that was surrounding her.

After she woke up and an ungodly amount of testing to see why her migraines were so aggressive, Sakura gave up.

Chalking it up officially as exploding migraines, she forced herself to check out of the hospital to continue her life. Yet,  _somehow_  she had Madara and a few of his other clan members in her living room, casually discussing politics and Uchiha-esque things that she didn't have the ear for.

After the incident and her return home, Madara refused to leave her side.

Aside from leaving someone on guard at night in front of her door (not her choice) he would usually be with her unless whatever business he had forced him to leave the building. In truth, it annoyed her at first — but he was pleasant conversation, and part of her felt sick being alone.

There's strength in loneliness, but she found it easier to be around him.

Still, while they were distracted she kept her phone in hand — the abundance of Sasuke's messages were increasing each day, each getting sweeter than the last.

Leaving the kitchen table to forgo any sentiment towards her ex, she entered her living room with a scowl, "don't you people have work?"

The three men looked at one another, each a sheepish smile on their face, "don't be grumpy with us, Sakura-chan — your apartment is coming together beautifully," Shisui commented with a grin.

Her frown deepened, "right — well, thank you, but I'm on strict orders to rest and I can't with you guys discussing whatever it is you're talking about."

Madara chuckled, "do the problems within our city not concern you? We're attempting to create solutions."

"You guy  _are_  the problem," she shot — halfway joking, but instead of taking offense, the trio laughed at her sharp tongue.

"Someone must be grumpy," the clan head stood and motioned for the others to follow, "alright, we'll leave you alone. Shisui, Izuna — see yourself out."

Sakura gaped at his straight-forward ability to annoy her. Narrowing her eyes, she set down her coffee mug and tugged her shawl around her shoulders tighter, "that includes  _you_."

He feigned hurt, "and here I cleared my schedule to spend the day with you."

The trio moved to her door, and Sakura ushered them forward, "good for you, but I want to sleep."

A month long nap sounded nice.

Really, she just didn't want the confusion that accompanied the infuriating Uchiha.

However, Madara had alternate plans and said his goodbyes to Shisui and his brother — both of them gave their leader one last glance, one with a smirk, another with a frown, before thanking Sakura and leaving her apartment.

"And you?" she said pointedly.

He stood tall in front of her, taking a step forward and looking down at the small pinkette, "you don't want me to leave."

"Says who?" she glared up at him, pointing an accusing finger towards his chest, "you seem to assume a lot about me."

She poked him in the chest, and with a quick flash of movement he gripped her wrist and pulled her close to him and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "then tell me to leave," he rolled the words seductively, causing a shiver to travel up her spine.

A furious blush tainted her cheeks, and after a few seconds — she relaxed in his grasp, but unable to muster the words to make him leave, "…fine, you can stay, but I'll be relaxing so don't expect much conversation."

With an annoyed pout, she pulled away from him and turned back to her living room, her heart pounding at his sudden attention. She gripped her burning wrist to her chest, biting her lip to hide her embarrassment.

What was she? A green school girl?

They found their way to her couch, he made phone calls and Sakura idly read a book — vaguely, she tried to avoid thinking about how  _natural_  this felt. When he wasn't on the phone, he read through documents — and she couldn't think of possibly a busier man than the one sitting beside her feet.

She peeked at him from beyond the cover of her book.

His hair was let down, allowing it to frame his face — contrasting around his gloriously sculpted jawline. His tie was loose, and his suit jacket had been casually strewn on her chair, leaving him in his button up with his sleeves rolled up. With a selfish desire, she watched the way his forearms flexed with every movement he made.

Gods, why was he so attractive?

She never looked at  _anyone_  besides Sasuke.

She could recognize a handsome face, but the allure that this man captivated her.

Sakura knew she was playing with fire.

This was a dangerous man.

She watched the way he killed that gang member.

Watched the way he broke his neck against the concrete  _after_  breaking his jaw.

There had been no remorse.

"If you're going to stare at me, at least ask me out first," he jested, breaking her inner turmulous thoughts.

Sakura blushed and kicked his thigh with her foot, "I  _wasn't_  staring!"

He laughed and grabbed her foot, carefully rubbing circles into the soles, making sure she was comfortable with the contact - when she didn't object, Sakura practically melted, "you're an awful liar."

Sakura hummed in response, forgetting how  _amazing_  it felt to get her feet rubbed, "…that's a good thing."

His fingers worked magic, and she leaned further into the couch, subdued by his administrations after a few long minutes, "I'll make you a deal," he announced.

Eyes closed, she looked at him again with a glare when he stopped, "—hey!"

He smirked, that stupid sexy smile of his never played well for her, "I'll continue if you go on a date with me,  _tonight_."

Sakura froze, unsure whether to take the bait or not, "a date?"

This time he frowned at her, "I'm sure you know what those are…Though I can assume it's been a long time and you might have forgotten."

His ability to insult her ex  _and_  tease her with a quick tongue was rather remarkable.

But could she?

Anything further with this man terrified her.

Not only because of her most recent relationship, but because of  _who_  he was.

"Won't people see us?" she tempted to discourage him.

"They will," he confirmed.

"That doesn't bother you?" she grasped at air for an excuse.

"Why should it? I would be honored to be seen with a dignified woman such as yourself," his compliments normally riled her, but Sakura couldn't counter his straight forward compliments when he penetrated her gaze with his own.

She bit on the inside of her cheek stubbornly, "you're so persistent," she muttered, defeated.

"Only for the things I  _want_ ," he said, his words edging on the velvet blanket of seductive, and slowly — he ghosted his fingers up her bare leg. The subtle touch caused goosebumps to raise on her skin, and she stared into the deep vortex of charcoal in his eyes— why couldn't she truly read this man?

Yet here they were, comfortable enough that they looked like they were a normal couple.

Though, there wasn't anything normal about them.

She stayed silent and grabbed her book once more, "fine —  _one_  date."

_Why?_

This should be a straight forward decision, his crimes and status should frighten her — she should run, she should get a stitch of her life back before this clan consumed her, but it was too late. She had her friends and family here — she  _should_  have reported the first murder when it happened, by now she would be an accessory in the crime for staying silent.

No matter what, they would keep her at arms length.

This world of grey was suddenly confusing her.

Close enough to control, far enough to not let her know too much.

Briefly, she wondered about the detective — his business card weighed heavily in her wallet.

Still — the sense that this was  _right_  outweighed her trepidation.

Madara only helped her from the moment they met — and she was sure his intentions were to get her into bed, but with the weight of Sasuke still playing on her mind — could she?

Part of her feared the fall.

His fingers ran circles on her slender calf, resuming their way down to her feet.

A gentle hum of pleasure vibrated through her, and Madara glanced up from his work — watching the pink vixen sprawled before him, threatening his self control.

Befitting to her character, within minutes his foot massage put her into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

With a gentle smile, the enigmatic clan leader briefly watched the small siren sleep — and quietly planned for their night.

xox

_Midnight's Run_

Sakura sat beside her  _other_ , or — that's what she liked to call the woman with short hair that looked like her exact replica.

She couldn't speak — she could only hear.

And even then, it was more of a  _feeling_ than physically hearing the words.

Sometimes the gorgeous, angelic woman would be there — but the dreams would be so short that they felt like glimpses into a place that she shouldn't. A sense of weightlessness would acost her — and as the stained glass room would dissolve — it would be the brief touch of their hands that would snap her back to reality.

Each time she woke, Sakura would remember the dreams a little more vividly, to the point that she began to wonder if they were really dreams at all.

xox

_Mirago Lounge_

Sasuke tipped back his third glass of sake.

He had never been much of a drinker, until the past year — and now he felt shaky without the numbness of alcohol. The world felt  _too_  heavy, too fast for him in the past months. His brother sat to his left, they were the only ones in the lounge, Madara having graced him with his first day off in weeks.

They would be opening the ports tomorrow.

Tonight their columbian representative would arrive, and Shisui and himself would be in charge of bringing him here so tomorrow would ride smoothly.

"I'm surprised you haven't left yet," Sasuke started — cool eyes staring blankly at the array of bottles decorating the familiar bar.

Itachi stayed resolute, "I won't be leaving. I got the pass to stay here in our Kyoto branch."

Sasuke would have felt inclined to scoff, but thought against it, "you'll leave eventually."

Maybe it was cruel to blame his brother right now, but his brother casting him aside was an inevitable factor in his life.

"No. I spoke with Madara — I may be readmitting myself," the older Uchiha admitted.

Sasuke froze, turning his attention to the masked face of his brother — unsure if he was lying or not, "you wouldn't do that. You  _hate_  what we do."

Itachi remained passive, as if this was mere coincidence, "I do, but I also want to protect my younger brother. You're destroying yourself — I need to watch over you and keep an eye on Madara, so I'm staying," he concluded, leaving Sasuke's usually stoic face slightly agape.

His words didn't help, and a resentful anger simmered through him, "I don't need a babysitter."

"Apparently you do."

Like a cat cornered, Sasuke sat straighter and glared at his brother, "don't stay here out of some self-absorbed guilt. I don't need  _anyone_  telling me what's wrong, I already know I'm a fuck up," he fumed — dropping his face into his hands.

Between Naruto and Sakura — he knew the stupid dobe would forgive him.

But Sakura?

He fucked it up.

And that terrified him.

He didn't get close to people, he didn't prance around with women like the others in his clan did, and namely — like Madara who used the women that dropped at his feet. The thought of anyone but the woman that broke through his hard exterior seemed impossible.

Numbly, he waited for a message back from her —  _anything._  He poured himself into that letter, and each day he called her — just to potentially hear her voice.

But with that asshole around, he doubted she would listen.

"You have the right to hate me, but you've completely isolated yourself from those that were with you—"

"I know!" Sasuke snapped, he could feel himself breaking, "…I know, I shouldn't have joined. I should have listened," his voice lightened, and the noose that he tied around his own neck was beginning to tighten.

Itachi stayed quiet, pitying his younger brother's plights — unable to understand  _why_  the demons Sasuke faced consumed him. Though, he was always a weak and dependent child, "you need to collect yourself. What would mother think of your behavior towards Sakura? She loved her—"

Sasuke stood and grabbed Itachi by the collar, "do  _not_  bring her up. You think I'm not trying to fix things? If you're going to help me, help me!" he seethed, "but don't—"

In a rush of hands, Itachi had Sasuke by the throat, pinning him with his hard eyes — they were the same height, but Itachi had experience in this line of work, "I love you, and I'll always love you,  _brother_  — but don't bite the hand that feeds you, understood?"

He let go, and Sasuke jerked from his grasp — face red from exertion.

And like a humbled wolf, Sasuke calmed down, "hn."

Itachi sat again and waited for their tension to cool before bringing up such a sensitive topic. They were alone, save for the bartender on his lunch break — the room was cleared, "I have to tell you some information that I've been keeping from you."

With a hard glare, Sasuke stayed standing, "what?"

The older brother had been sitting on this information for some time, unsure how to bring it up to his brother, considering how sensitive the material was — after a few long seconds of drawn out agitation, his brother broke, "…what is it?"

Itachi knew to turn his back to the cameras, keeping his mouth obscurely concealed, "I have reason to suspect Madara and his father were behind our parents death."

In the unusual silence of the lounge, the room became a blur of white noise.

xox

_Tobirama's Apartment  
4th District_

The mess of folders and paperwork were strewn across his table, the dozens of faces of that of the Yakuza and Uchiha — some more obscure than others, all stared back at him as hundreds of news paper clippings and resourced documents compiled within the room.

With a harsh growl, the frustrated detective shoved the papers in front of him and ground his teeth. No leads, nothing.

The rival shooting a week ago had gone underway without his knowledge — Raiden had cleverly kept it from anybody that might tell the other factions, and Tobirama could practically  _hear_  the Uchiha's laughing at the Yakuza's inability to stay organized and detonate themselves.

In the midst of the dark hairs of black, the picture of Madara's new toy he followed he other day glimmered up at him like a beacon.

She would have to come to him first.

But would she?

According to Itami, she had been involved, caught in the cross hairs of the bombing.

Police were rampant after the incident, and any  _smart_  gang would lay low for the next few weeks out of this district, but Tobirama struggled to piece together a new path for him to find.

He grabbed her picture — knowing more about the young doctor than he would have liked to admit.

"Fuckkk," he groaned, setting her picture down.

She was the in.

Madara kept her close, there would be friction between Sasuke Uchiha and his clan leader — if she left him so suddenly, he had to wonder what happened. She didn't seem like the cheating type, nor did she seem like a woman that would suddenly leave her fiancé for unwarranted reasons.

The door to his apartment opened — and the familiar footsteps of his younger brother echoed in the hall.

"You're losing your mind," his monochromatic sibling announced as he stepped into the room, careful not to disturb the never ending piles of paper.

Tobirama glared at him, offering him a customary  _shut up if you're not going to be useful_  look.

"I brought you lunch," Itama sighed and set down the bento on the edge of his desk, "—hey, isn't that the Haruno girl?"

He set down the picture on the table and rubbed away the beginning throb of a headache, "it is — but you already know that."

Itami sat on the open chair and glanced around the room in a chaotic mess, "think she'll contact you?"

Tobirama shook his head, profoundly annoyed, "not until Madara gives her a reason to."

They both mulled over the suggestion, "and if he doesn't?"

"Then we lose a useful asset," Tobirama shot at him—  _obviously._

Itama leaned over to look at the main faces, "the Uchiha are a tight knit group — you won't get anything without one of them, and after last week?" he whistled sarcastically, "they're going to be doing business as usual."

The older Senju rubbed his chin, "it's never usual business with these guys. Which is why without hard evidence, I'll be getting nowhere."

Curiously, Itama eyed the faces of the men that plagued their lives, "the police are bought out — only at the federal level would you be able get any success and that's  _if_  you get evidence about what they do."

He felt possessed, but part of him  _knew_  something was coming.

"I  _know_  that."

With an annoyed glance, Itama tried to reach his brother, "then why are you still doing this to yourself? I'm still upset about Hashi's death, just as much as you are — but you can't keep your life revolving around indicting Madara, it's impossible for one person to do alone!"

It was the truth.

They both knew this.

As an officer — Itama worked at the local station, and any time the Uchiha were even  _mentioned_  in passing, a hush of silence would settle within the room. They weren't just a clan, they were the clan that held a hand in political offices, the police, and businesses throughout Kyoto — pushing their way towards Tokyo.

He didn't understand,  _no one_  understood how deep the ties between his brother and Madara ran. And part of him  _knew_  Madara was involved, knew that the Uchiha were responsible for the death of his older brother.

_The candles were lit, and a fresh faced Tobirama held his mother in his arms as her tears soaked through his shirt._

_Across from him, the apathetic eyes of Madara stared down at the casket being lowered into the ground. Tobirama forced himself to watch, Itama stood to his right — he gripped his mother close, the reality of the situation shifting him into a trance like state._

_The incident left his family scarred._

_The two had been best friends growing up._

_You didn't get Madara without Hashirama._

_Which is why when they had been out one night, the shooting that left his brother dead and Madara_ **_alive_ ** _never made sense._

_A random occurrence, the Uchiha claimed._

_And the police believed it — their family was small with an even smaller influence._

_So they dropped the case._

Each day he envisioned his brother would enter the room in the morning, that forsaken wide smile greeting him.

"I'm not going to stop until I get answers, even if that means killing him myself," Tobirama said, his voice low.

Itama's eyes softened, he had always been the more sentimental brother — Hashirama the friendly loud one, and Tobirama the brooding, temperamental figure protecting them both.

"You're going to get yourself killed — you can't continue living two lives, I'm worried about you," his brother's voice pleaded with him, hoping that at some point words would work.

But he was in too deep.

Tobirama stood and grabbed his gun and badge, his tattoos making his skin crawl.

"Raiden has me laying low for a while — I'm going out."

The younger male watched his brother leave, already knowing he was going to do undercover work — wishing Hashirama would speak some sense to him.

"Why did you leave us?" Itama murmured softly.

xox

_Madara's Apartment_

Izuna shook his head in disbelief when his brother stepped out of his room, "I can't believe you're really pursuing this."

The renowned male fixed his tie, "pursuing  _who_ , you mean?"

"You know what I fucking mean! Of  _all_ women, you choose her?" Izuna's voice tightened, though he found humor in the situation, "I'm surprised she agreed to it."

Madara offered a pointed look, issuing for his brother to shut up, "unlike yourself, I don't screw around with married women."

Izuna huffed, "Sasuke-kun would disagree."

"I love my cousin, but she deserves someone better," the confidence in his speech couldn't be rivaled, Izuna admired that about his brother.

"And you're the better person?"

The clan head finished fixing his tie, "I am."

xox

_Outer Kyoto_

The duo admired the scenery from the inside of the black sedan, and Sakura watched the world spin by her as the lights from the city faded in the distance as they ascended towards the sky. Madara's hand comfortably held hers, his thumb tracing undeniable circles into her skin, making it difficult to focus on much else.

Vaguely, she expected him to take her out to dinner, but found they were leaving further out of the city, "…where are we going?" she questioned.

"Mmm, one of my favorite places — I think you might like it," he hummed in response, looking at her briefly.

Dressed in a simple white dress and green raincoat, she had to wonder where he was possibly taking her, "you're taking me in a  _tux_?"

At first when he stopped by her apartment she felt overwhelmingly underdressed, but he pressed that her choice of outfit was perfect.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly and leaned in to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, "do you trust me?" he murmured huskily.

Silently, she gave the smallest nod — lost in the enchanting gaze this man captivated her with.

Eventually, they reached the large climb of the mountain, and finally the black sedan pulled over to a hiking trail, Sakura had never been an outdoorsy type of girl. Sort of. Her father took her out as a child, and she enjoyed the occasional outdoor activities — but her studious nature usually kept her indoors.

" _Here_?" she mimicked again, eyeing the ominous trail but followed his lead out of the car.

He chuckled and reached for her hand again, " _trust_  me."

They left the chauffeur and the car, and slowly they pushed through the overgrowth of trees. With only a flashlight in hand, he kept her close to him — the silence of the dim night air felt deafening.

As the trees and brush cleared, Sakura's breath caught.

With a small gasp, she followed the trail to the mountain's edge.

Before her, the expanse of the entire city laid out in front of her.

The millions of lights twinkled like a sea of stars winking back at them, dancing together as the city bustled with a renewed life that went unnoticed when you  _lived_  in it. At the edge, there were a couple of rocks to sit on, some graffitied with names and a few beer cans littering the clearing, but it did nothing to diminish the view of the city.

It looked  _unreal_.

He tugged her forward, smiling to himself — happy with her genuine reaction.

Her expressive eyes swelled in front of him, and he couldn't tear his gaze away. How could one human be so genuine in their being? Everything this woman offered was basked in the certainty of her emotions. Where his life was revolved with a veil of lies and hidden motivations, she cleared a path of truth.

"It's…" she couldn't find the right words.

"Magnificent," he finished for her, staring at the petite pinkette that had suddenly changed his life upon their meeting.

Sakura caught his tone and broke her daze with the view and felt like a siren calling for the men at sea with the intensity of his gaze — he was lost in her eyes, and she was lost in  _him._

Amongst the darkness, her cheeks reddened.

He brought her close to him, their bodies inches apart — and he held her gently, the sound of their breathing echoing their shared nervousness.

"May I kiss you, Sakura?"

The words caused a pleasant shiver to touch her bare skin.

This time, instead of the half-dazed and flushed drunken words when he first asked her months ago, this was entirely different. His black eyes smoldered her in the darkness, the moon hung brightly above them, and for a  _brief_  moment the ongoing shock and turmoil of her life slipped away. This man stole those problems, and she found herself unable to pull away. Instead, she leaned forward — her eyes closing.

This…This felt  _intoxicating._

The scent of cherry blossoms kissed the air.

He cupped her face with his hands.

And there, under the streaming moonlight and city of lights before them —

Madara kissed her.

Soft and delightful at first.

It shocked her body, and she had never experienced the sensation of  _melting_  in someone's arms.

The kiss deepened, and she pressed forward, her hands gripping at the edges of his tux.

With a possessive growl, he nipped at her bottom lip — and with a small gasp their tongues clashed in a battle for dominance, his tongue scraping against the back of her teeth.

Her body lit itself on fire, his touch an igniter for the heat that rose to her cheeks.

She fell.

The world swept itself from beneath them.

His hands traveled down her body, goosebumps followed his careful touch — her fingers found themselves lost in his thick, onyx hair. He swallowed the air from her lungs, and with a soft moan she pressed herself impossibly closer. His thumb brushed daringly over her breast, eliciting a soft whimper from the impossibly beautiful woman.

"Fuck," he growled against her lips, he wanted to hear those noises.

He wanted to hear his name on her lips, screamed into the sky as a prayer.

He wanted long mornings and the rare smile she would offer  _only him._  He was a selfish man, and he wanted the entirety of her existence. Laughter over coffee, her ambition to brighten a long day. He felt like a man possessed, and with his free hand he gripped her hair at the nape, the roughness causing a new warmth pooling between her legs.

He wanted  _her_.

"I want you," he inhaled to gather himself, and never before did he find himself crumbling at a  _kiss._

The young doctor looked up at the man that captured her attention, the impassioned softness of his lips crashing against hers sent her into oblivion.

He pulled away again, "I want  _all_  of you," he declared, his hand caressing her cheek in his palm, and Sakura leaned into the gentle touch, her own hand delicately touching his, "I'll give you everything, Sakura."

And like the many nights in the past where there were days of lounging in each other's arms, their fates mixed — intwined by a divine strain of fate. She closed her eyes, collecting his words to bite her lip.

Quietly, the words expressing her fears gripped at her in a whisper, "…are you going to hurt me?"

She opened her eyes — the look of her raw innocence stretched between them.

He ran the back of his fingers against her cheek, traveling until he gripped her chin between his thumb and finger, "never," his voice threaded a web of promise.

Further she fell.

He had been there for her.

He had been the cause.

She was no fool to think otherwise.

But maybe he would help ease her pain.

She pressed her lips against his, closing the distance between the enigmatic man and herself.

Silently, her words spoke for themselves.

_You've always had me._

xox

_One Days Later  
Southern Port, Kyoto_

Shisui slapped Itachi on the back with a grin, "it's great to have you back, brother."

The duo grew up with one another, being the same age and the added benefit of living down the street from each other had the effect of making them as close as brothers — something Sasuke had dully been resentful for when they would leave without him since he was too young to do much of anything.

"Glad to be back," Itachi put on a dim smile.

The guns sat happily on their hips.

The sound of Sasuke none too discretely sniffing the coke from his pocket with his key disrupted the scene.

Itachi stayed quiet, deciding now wouldn't be the time to fight. This was his reinitaion into the works of their clan, this was opportunity to get a handle on his brother, and an advantage on Madara.

"They're coming," Shisui announced.

In the distance between the immense shipping containers, a duo emerged from the bask of morning darkness.

Clad in simple suits, their sun kissed skin and strength in their walk bristled the trio to stand straighter.

The first man extended his hand out to Sasuke, cigarette lazily perched between his lips, "Emilio Vasquez."

The second glanced between the two groups, "my name is Muran Rodriguez, I will be translating for Emilio for the duration of our trip here to make sure everything runs smoothly."

Sasuke shook the man's hand, noticing the hard squeeze Emilio gave him — for a brief second Sasuke narrowed his eyes, but Shisui stepped in to shake their hands.

"My name is Shisui, it's a pleasure to finally have you both here so we can establish the connection between the Columbians and ourselves."

A respected silence hummed over the group.

This had been building for years under Madara's clever thinking.

Minutes later, one of the oversized shipping containers opened.

In front of them, hundreds of bricks of tightly wrapped cocaine were discreetly hidden, "how much time does this port usually have before security comes?" Muran questioned, anticipating his bosses question.

"Security won't be an issue," Shisui explained in avid detail the operations of the port — Considering Japan's strict international shipping laws, only the magnificent hand of the Uchiha could sway open a port with the help of law enforcement protecting them from federal inspection.

Clearly satisfied, Emilio looked at the three clansmen, "where is Madara Uchiha?" his broken Japanese impressed the clan members.

The three men looked to one another, "waiting for us."

xox

_Children's Hospital  
Downtown Kyoto_

Sakura was determined to get her life back.

Doctors orders aside, she went back to work.

_"You're looking lively now, the week was all you needed?" Tsunade regarded her with a skeptical eye._

_"I'll be fine, Tsunade-shishou."_

_"Fine, but on the onset of you feeling sick, you better tell me."_

With a renewed motivation, she put vigorous energy in her step — actively remembering her first date with Madara.

She found herself smiling randomly throughout her morning.

Tentatively, Sakura ghosted her fingers over her lips, finding it increasingly more alarming how  _easy_ it felt to be around him last night. After that they stayed on the rocks talking for a few hours; about life, ambitions, their past — about  _everything,_ they returned and he dropped her off at her apartment, hands clasped comfortably in one another's.

_"Goodnight, Sakura."_

_They lingered there, their magnetism pulling them forward, and for a moment she almost grabbed his arm to keep him with her for the night, but thought against it._

The shooting, Sasuke — it all was beginning to jumble together.

Her body still held onto the bruises from the incident a week ago, but they would soon fade away.

Only the memories stayed — and she refused to be a captive of her memories.

The dreams temporarily stopped.

After the vivid first dream when she fainted in the hospital bed, they were few and far between.

Each just as explicit as the first, but she could not describe the sense of the visions, they still confused her — she felt like a bystander with the other two figures.

With a shallow sigh, she ate her bento in silence on her lunch break in her office.

Tsunade expected her for an impromptu surgery within the hour for a split tendon.

A confident knock rapped itself on her office door.

Halfway expecting it to be her shisou, she hummed out an overtly happy, "come in."

Much to her surprise, the tall detective walked in.

Alarms within her went off, and she froze in her seat, "…what are you doing here?"

He offered an apologetic look, motioning towards the front desk, "they told me you would be in your office right now, I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

The white haired male looked a lot different without his sunglasses and cap on, revealing a sharply handsome, but severe looking face. "You're not," she finally ushered, "do you need something, detective?"

He motioned towards the seat, "may I? I was hoping to speak with you about something."

She didn't appreciate being bombarded at work, but her sacrilegious respect for law enforcement forced her to allow him, "or are you following me again?"

Tobirama took a seat across from her desk, "that was a one time thing," he laughed — that odd mixture of familiarity reminded her of someone that she couldn't accurately place.

"Well, what is it?" she feigned irritation, casually glancing at the clock — "my lunch is almost over."

"I have reason to believe your fiancé is involved in illegal gun trafficking, do you know anything about this?" he murmured, straight to the point. "It concerns me because you were one of the people involved in the incident last week — and as you may have heard on the news, the Yakuza managed to shoot civilians caught in the crossfire. Do you know anything?"

Sakura pursed her lips, her heart hammering in her chest, " _ex_ fiancé. We're not together anymore."

The news surprised the detective, and he leaned back in his seat curiously, "oh? Well excuse my mistake—You're still registered as living on 7th and 10th?"

She sighed, already frustrated with this conversation, "I already filed my residency papers. I'm living in the downtown apartments now."

"With Uchiha Madara?" he inquired.

She snapped, the fiery woman glared at him, "I don't think where I  _live_  has any bearing on the events of last week, detective."

_Who does this guy think he is?_

"It does, when we have reason to believe that your ex and the other members of the Uchiha are trafficking guns. You understand such an issue, don't you?" his deep voice frightened her, and his badge blinked back at her — but she stood firm.

His tattoos caught her attention, and the clever doctor straightened herself, "I understand, but I don't know anything. I know Sasuke was working on opening the fourth district branch for the corporate offices, and I know Madara spends his days at said offices running a business. However, what I'm curious about is that tattoo on your wrist,  _detective._ "

They stared at one another, each hiding more than they were letting on.

Tobirama was gambling, throwing his dice in hopes that she would oblige.

There was no insurance that she wouldn't tell Madara the moment he left this office — then everything he had been carefully planning for the past few years would be lost once he was found out. "How would you know anything about tattoos, Ms. Haruno?"

_Shoot!_

She could play this off.

"I know that only those involved in gangs usually get tattoos — and it's quite rare for a person in law enforcement to associate themselves with such violence by getting a tattoo," her words rolled out effortlessly, akin to the fear within her.

He smirked, striking her as quite handsome when he didn't have such a harrowing, harsh look on his face.

"You're smart," he murmured easily.

"I'm a  _doctor_ ," she quipped sarcastically, "now if we're done here…" She stood up to leave the suffocating conversation, until she noticed him staring intently at the bracelet complimenting her wrist.

"Where did you get that?" he mustered, clearly flustered by the sight of the jewelry.

Sakura gripped her wrist to her chest, unsure what he was talking about, "… _this_?"

The pink gems clung to the black string, a gift from her grandmother that she refused to go without, "my grandmother gave it to me," she murmured whimsically, fondly remembering the time before her grandmother passed.

"That belonged to someone in my family," he gripped her wrist and brought her closer to him, inspecting the bracelet.

Sakura reeled, frozen under the detective's intrusion of her personal space, " _hey_! Let go!"

He kept her there, staring into the eloquent emerald eyes of the doctor, "you're a Haruno?"

She stopped fighting, unsure where she had seen this face before.

"You already know my name…" she growled unhappily, scraping her lip with her teeth to hide her nervousness, "as you seem to know a lot about me already. I don't know what you're playing at, but don't expect me to divulge information that I know nothing about. I am not part of their clan -" she glanced at his badge, " _Tobirama-san_."

He let go.

And with that, her wrist felt aflame from his touch.

"I'm sorry…Someone important to me had a bracelet just like that," he sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his wild white hair, "I'll leave you alone - but after the incident from last week, the police are pulling for hard leads."

She paused, holding her wrist close to her, "it's ok…But I wasn't the only person there," Sakura took a moment to catch herself, understanding that this could be an ample opportunity, "do you really suspect Sasuke is involved?"

She had to know how close the fire reached home.

Tobirama looked down at the petite woman, "we have reason to suspect they may be funneling guns into the city. I'm concerned for your safety, Ms. Haruno."

He reminded her of a white knight, one that would be found in medieval western movies, and she pursed her lips, unsure where she was headed, "I have your card…I'll let you know if I hear of anything."

Her words seemed to placate him, because he offered her a smile before dismissing himself, "thank you, Ms. Haruno, I apologize again — have a good day."

Then he left, and she found herself staring at his back, gradually sinking once again.

Briefly, she eyed the bracelet on her wrist - wondering why his intense red eyes seemed so familiar.

xox

Tobirama entered his car with a huff, Itama sat patiently in the passenger seat, "well?"

With the small tap of his fingers nervously on the dash, Tobirama paused, "I think it worked."

With a successful grin, their thoughts were cut short by a building fear, "do you think she'll tell Madara you met with her?"

A silent pause filtered into the car, and Tobirama glanced up a the hospital — envisioning the young doctor's contagious personality, "she's smart, she knows they're dangerous, she'll call me eventually.

xox

_Mirago Lounge  
4th District_

The group of men in the room were from different worlds.

Each world still revolving around the same two concepts.

Money.

Loyalty.

Which came first was up for debate.

Without one, you didn't have the other.

Emilio lit his cigar offered by Madara — each exchanging tidbits of information to one another through the wall of their language, Shisui and the other Uchiha sat around the table.

"Hay mujeres en este pais?" Emilio drawled out, causing Muran to laugh.

"He asks if there are no women in this country that could oblige us?"

Madara stood, "then as an extension of our good faith — let's take our kind guests to Kurabu."

Shisui's grin grew — leaving Sasuke confused as to what they were talking about. Quizzically, he glanced at his older brother — Itachi sighed through his nose, it was on rare occasions that they would go to the club, to which Itachi had been forced to go to before.

"Shisui, call the car please."

xox

Tobirama waited outside of the lounge, a sixth sense beckoned him to do reconnaissance.

His brother called it obsession — but he waited none the less.

Camera in hand, he found the entourage of the high ranking Uchihas leaving the building.

And with them — the familiar face of a Columbian surfaced.

"No fucking way," he breathed, lifting the camera to capture the group walking with the notorious drug leader.

Were they really that  _bold_?

Slowly, the edges of his lips tilted in to a smirk, and he took the picture.

xox

_Kurabu  
Downtown Kyoto_

By now, most of the men in the vicinity were drunk.

Empty sake bottles and shot glasses were on the tables.

Madara felt the looseness of the alcohol inhibit him, but he never allowed himself anything past this.

The women danced on the uplifted stage before them — but he kept a sure eye on their honored guest. Seemingly, Emilio looked as if he was enjoying himself — talking amicably through Muran to his clan members. Laughter surfaced into the room, and another round of shots were brought out.

He glanced at Sasuke and Itachi sitting on a plush couch, Itachi sitting with his usual righteous preservation — and Sasuke joining him.

"Having fun?" he dared to ask, and his cousins brought their glasses in a cheer with a severely bored look on their similar faces —  _sarcastic bastards._

Sasuke motioned towards the women entering the room, "about to be."

And with flaming sake bottles in their hand, the naked women paraded into the room — each more beautiful than the last.

Emilio and Muran whistled happily, and the other men in the room (particularly his perversive brother) joined the loud excitement, whistling as each woman chose a lap to sit on. When a busty blond stood in front of him, he put his hand up to stop her, " _no_."

She pouted, "oh c'mon, Madara-sama." She wiggled languidly in front of him, and with a small chuckle he denied her once more. Truthfully, he never cared for places like this. His men did, but he enjoyed the chase of a wild woman than the submissive women that were paid to enjoy their company. And in reality, he only wished for the pink blossom instead of these women.

Emilio frowned, his eyes glinting suspiciously, "¿Qué? ¿Le gustan los chicos o qué?" he broke through, his voice dropping — and by the gruff change in his tone, all the men in the roomed peered between him and Madara, caught off guard by the sudden change.

The translator cleared his throat, deciding to relay the information carefully, "…he asks if the man likes boys, as there is a beautiful woman in front of him…"

A stifled laughter filtered through his men in the room, and never one to be cast as the joke, Madara took a steadying breath before allowing the girl to sit on his lap begrudgingly, a frown apparent on his face.

The drinks lifted in each hand.

The blond draped herself over him and decided to pour him a sake shot.

Emilio raised his hand, eyes crazed with the excitement of the business agreement, "saludos a una associacion larga y exitosa!"*

Without hesitation, the room cheered — and she poured the smooth shot into his mouth.

It was only after that he whispered in her ear, "go attend to our guests, please." He politely moved his leg to push her off of him, she pouted — but not before detaching herself from the clan leader and moving herself to sit on the other side of Emilio.

Good.

He didn't want her.

The normally uplifting Uchiha kept his attention focused on his clan, on Emilio - but finding it increasingly difficult as Sakura infiltrated the forefront of his thoughts.

Madara glanced between himself and the narco, both respected men giving the barest hint of a nod in mutual agreement.

xox

_Sakura's Apartment_

It was 3:03 am when her phone echoed in the silence of her apartment.

After a fourteen hour shift — she wanted nothing but her bed and the emptiness of sleep.

With a small yawn, she glanced at the text message notification on her phone.

Sasuke's number lit up the phone, and she debated on ignoring it…But why would he be texting her so late?

Curiously, she picked up the phone.

She opened the message and felt her heart sink.

The group of men she familiarized with were in a swanky looking room textured with rich, red velvets — sake bottles were distributed around the room, and like the time she came in to see Sasuke snorting coke — the same drug was casually strewn across the deep oak tables in neatly filed lines.

And decorated across most of the laps in the room were beautiful women — half dressed in lingerie.

It didn't take a genius to understand where they were.

In the center, Madara held a blond woman on his lap — she was feeding him a sake shot.

He was smiling.

She bit her lip to stop the onslaught of embarrassment and burn of her eyes.

Or was it pain?

With a hard sigh, she had to wonder why Sasuke would send her this picture.

To hurt her?

It just meant that he was there  _too_.

She had no right to be upset, Madara and herself weren't officially dating.

They weren't official  _anything_.

What would make her so special to think anything he said would actually hold a grain of truth?

What made her special to him?

She saved the picture, even though it scared her to feel this familiar pain.

She replied with a simple, - _thanks._

In the silence of the night, she couldn't fall back asleep — upset with herself and mad at her ability to be so  _gullible._

For a second, she really opened herself to him.

It hurt.

And that scared her more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to let me know what you think! Thank you for reading ~~  
> And please forgive me if I botched the Spanish in this chapter.
> 
> *Rough translation for Emilio's cheer: Cheers to a long and successful partnership!


	17. Weapon of Truth

**_Past, pt 9_ **

* * *

 

_Fedual Japan  
Uchiha Stronghold _

Her face felt hot.

Her pulse hurdled over her nerves.

The man that tainted her, consumed her, took _everything_ from her yet succeeded in stealing her affection only to cast her aside looked the same as the day she left — devastatingly dark and beautiful, closer to the devil in the stories that her father told her growing up.

Dressed in layerings of black and blood red of the Uchiha, his hair was let loose — the sharp angles of his face still looked the same as the day of the auction, differing himself from the crowd of lowly men — but instead of a seasoned war lord, now he resembled a god.

Madara took the first step down, keeping their eyes magnetically static, the stretch of his broad shoulders commanded presence, and the raw _power_ that emitted from the fresh _rida_ felt similar to the nights where he possessed her body. Nervously, she gripped the edges of her hood —- channeling her bravery into the canals of her soul — _I can do this!_

She stepped into the lion's den, daring the predator to come near.

Slowly, Sakura pulled down her hood — remembering the night he bought her, alcohol on his breath when he attempted to take her. Her uncanny ability to draw people by her sheer resilience had been admiring when she fought against him, and somewhere along the way in the long days of being at the Uchiha compound she had lost that.

Anger seeped into her blood, and she dropped the hood — revealing her choppy, boyish layers. For a moment, Madara faltered on the steps, and she was sure he would send her away, days of being on the road and her time with the Jashinist changed her.

He didn't like dirty women.

However, instead of a face of disgust, his lips curled into a soft smile, and her courage began to waver as he closed the distance between them.

Her chest constricted painfully, the daunting memories of this man flooded her.

She balled her fists stubbornly at her sides, — the tension must have been palpable because her normally loud-mouthed companion remained silent, watching the scene unfold.

"Sakura," he greeted again — her body wanted to surge low to bow out of habit, but she fought against it and remained stiff.

"Madara-sama," she returned, voice tight. In seconds he was standing before her, naively she tore her eyes away.

He memorized the curvatures of her face, the cuts and bruises that plagued her skin, for a moment, his eyes dragged over the Senju's symbol stitched into the collar of Tobirama's cloak.

A dark, impenetrable jealousy sparked within him.

_Kami._

She would burst at the seams if he continued to unravel her with his close presence.

A frown marred his face.

She expected an insult, a blow from his hand — she flinched in preparation for his cutting words.

It shocked her when he turned his attention to Hidan instead, "did I not pay you to keep her _safe_?" his scathing tone brimmed with anger, something she had become familiar with. Her companion bristled in retaliation and before Sakura realized what the insinuation meant, she took a step between them.

"Leave him alone! I'm fine," she self-consciously grabbed the tips of her muted pink hair, "I cut it myself."

Then it dawned on her.

"Wait—"

Hidan stood straight, the zealous religious fanatic sighed unforgivingly, "listen, twerp. I should have told ya' sooner but this guy paid me to bring you here — hate to break it to ya' like this."

"Then you _lied_ to me?" she asked in disbelief, never putting it past him to lie to her, but he had been adamant about his crazed god getting her east.

He narrowed his eyes, "you think that fucking low of me? Jashin told me to accept the offer, I might have just not told you _everything_."

Bubbling hurt coursed within her, "that's still _lying_!"

"Enough," Madara barged into the accusations, "I'll see to it that you're paid, but I expected a better result."

"Better result?" Hidan soured, "I got her here _early_! She's alive and didn't get fucking raped on the road — you should be _thanking_ me, asshole!"

For a moment, she feared for Madara's outburst, but the clan leader remained passive, "you're dismissed," Madara said cooly, much to the annoyance of Hidan.

"'Bout fucking time! Have fun with this asshole, _Princess,"_ he snarled, breaking away from the foyer and following behind one of the nervous servants.

She watched him leave with pleading eyes, feeling like she lost a source of strength with his disappearance.

Madara waited until the cursing stopped echoing off the halls before speaking, "Sakura, look at me," his commanding voice sent chills down her spine, the familiar tone that ingrained itself into her head seized her chest with a riot of hatred and fear.

She turned, unknowing to the fact that he was behind her now.

He grabbed a strand of her short hair, eyeing her dark locks, "are you alright?"

Sakura recoiled from his touch, taking a step back and twirling to face him with an apparent glare, " _yes_ — I told you that already," she paused to gather herself, "shouldn't you be in attendance with your _wife_?"

She needed time.

Half of her had been surprised he would meet with her right now.

She knew he wanted to own her, he made it clear she was his before she escaped with Tobirama.

Madara, for all the knowledge he attained, could not fathom why she said that. The confusion displayed in his usually dead eyes forced her to suck in some air in explanation, "…to the Hyuga heiress? I noticed their banners outside…"

The flash of recognition for the situation crossed his face, and he put on a satisfied smirk, "keeping tabs on me? How did you know I was to wed her?"

In that moment when she overheard the Senju brothers speaking of the betrothal, she had been relieved, part of her worried for the bride to be, wondering if he would treat his wife as badly he did her — but she swallowed down the information and buried it.

"I—" she got stuck, "…News travels fast."

"I would assume so — considering you left with that _Senju_ , I'm sure they were quick to tell you about it," he drenched his words in contempt, reminding her how quickly he could change.

Sakura braced herself, "his name is _Tobirama_ , and you know why I left."

Madara grabbed her chin forcefully, vexation flaring through him, "I don't want our reunion ruined by mentions of the past — this isn't the time or place for us to discuss this."

Her nostrils flared, she wanted to _hurt_ him — hurt him like he did her, steal everything from him and watch it burn at her hand. Call it ugly vengeance, but she thrived on this ability to see him angry about another man, "the past will be with us forever — until the moon and stars no longer rise and fall each night, _remember_?" she taunted, _hoping_ to provoke him further.

The Uchiha clenched his jaw, she could see his threshold threatening to break, but she wanted to be reminded of why she hated him. Perhaps he still frightened her, but she blossomed without him, and would continue to do so.

He kept her chin in his hand, he found her as intriguing as the day he bought her. There would forever be a place the infuriating woman had touched, but she wanted to draw it out of him. With the knowledge that he wouldn't kill her, her faux courage presented itself, "you act like I meant something to you, but you—!"

Uncharacteristically, he dropped his hand — stopping her verbal assault.

"We have much to discuss," he said cordially, masking himself from her. "The servants will take you and help you clean up. I must attend my _brother's_ wedding," his face mildly softened, and the possessive man left her alone, leaving the spitball of fire thoroughly confused.

"Izuna is marrying the heiress…?"

Madara didn't acknowledge her epiphany, but began to walk away, "I will send someone to you tonight that you might appreciate seeing again."

In the emptiness of the foyer, she brought her fingers to her chin, wondering why it burned.

xox

Sakura dipped herself into the scalding water.

She rubbed furiously at her skin — hoping to rid of the dirt and grime of the past two months that the streams couldn't save her from. Her creamy skin tinged itself a deep pink with the ferocity of her scrubbing, leaving her skin raw and achey, but she couldn't stop.

Madara infuriated her.

She _hated_ him.

Truly, how could he stand in his magnificence and do the opposite of what she expected?

The young girl dropped her soap into the water and stayed resolute, her shoulders dropping as her hands began to shake from the onset of being near her master again.

He was still the same.

The days of their long summer played in her head.

He uncoiled her — dragged out a fierce hope and understanding of the world.

Yet…She left him.

Bought as a concubine, the juncture of their connected past.

She had been broken, treasured, and abused.

And _again_ , she would be nothing more than a lowly concubine — hesitantly she placed a hand over her belly, knowing this time she would surely get pregnant, and stave a life of protecting her bastard child.

Her heart ached for the man she knew was here in the cells.

If only she could _find_ him.

She braced herself for the inevitability that Tobirama may be dead.

The thought made her want to puke, and she closed her eyes to simmer and sink further in the tub.

_Why?_

Sakura brought her hands to her face.

But she didn't cry.

_Why me?_

Her life had been peaceful until it had been taken from her.

She groaned into her hands, sounding akin to a choked whimper — rousing her frustration.

_Why does fate like to play with me?_

With the gentle expression of the younger Senju brother in her mind — Sakura steeled herself.

The past could not be changed, only the future.

She could change fate.

xox

_Sakura's Chambers  
_ _Uchiha Stronghold_

The young girl lying in the heavy duvets and furs could scarcely touch sleep, her body begged for the sweet sensation of rest, but her mind actively refused. Each sound in the busy castle kept her awake on such a night of celebration; the laughter of the drunk soldiers stationed outside at their camps, a wailing babe within the deep walls, but most of all the blood pounding through her ears. Her mind itched to leave the confines of the room to search through the dark cells to find Tobirama.

Not yet.

Sakura needed to be patient.

The lightest knock touched her door, and for a confused moment Sakura lifted herself from the warm furs, careful to cover herself, "come in."

A tiny, young servant, who couldn't have been much older than when she first arrived to the Uchiha compound entered with a polite bow, "Madara requests your company in the gardens, Sakura-san."

Her chest clenched, and with a shallow sigh — a sad frown pulled on her lips, "right now? It's nearly midnight."

The redhead kept her hands folded in front of her, refusing to make eye-contact, "I apologize for the intrusion so late, but I'm not allowed to leave with out escorting you, Sakura-san."

So be it.

She had expected someone to come to her as he mentioned earlier, but there would be no use in refusing him so early.

With her return, she gave her freedom back.

Soon enough, he would call her to his chambers — and she would be a regular ornament on his bed.

"Alright, please allow me to change," she paused, "what's your name?"

"Call me Mira, Sakura-san."

In an attempt to calm Mira - Sakura smiled, noticing the way she fidgeted nervously although she tried to hide it.

"Just Sakura, please — no need to be so formal. I'm only a…Concubine," she muttered darkly. Mira gasped, but stayed quiet after her omission, clearly unsettled by her words — leaving Sakura to wonder why it came as a surprise.

_Mm, perhaps I was too blunt._

xox

In the darkness of the large gardens, it was a wonder Sakura managed to make it here at all even with the guidance of Mira. The castle was an obscure building of long, winding hallways and steps — hardly memorizable in the inky blackness of night. Unlike the the compound, the stronghold was a massive structure that she had never set foot in before, and feared she would never memorize it well enough under Madara's watchful eye.

Sakura brought her cloak closer around her form, missing the familiar scent of her journey on Tobirama's cloak and Hidan's loud mouth.

Mira bowed again, "Madara-sama should be arriving shortly. Goodnight, Sakura-san…Oops! I mean, Sakura."

"Goodnight, Mira-chan," she offered with a wide smile — confusing the servant further before she scurried off with a small wave — revealing the innocence of the young girl.

In the loneliness of the gardens, her heart began to race thinking about another meeting. Her hand habitually rose to rest against her chest. Dressed in a new yukata, clean, and bandaged from her travels, she found it suffocating compared to the freedom of her pants and endless possibilities surrounding her.

The night seemed to draw on, leaving her to slowly build her annoyance.

She heard the shuffling of feet and braced herself, gearing her loathing towards the clan head.

"Why did you call me out here if—" she rose from her seat, boiling.

"Sakura….?" the voice cut her off from the shadows, and she turned, the voice seizing her movement.

Slowly, the figure crept into her line of sight.

She couldn't move.

Whimsically, it seemed as if the shadows parted to allow the figure to stand in the drenching moonlight, and she found it hard to stand.

Her father stood before her.

Ashen blond hair cropped short, smaller than she remembered — but the familiar face made her body spasm with years of anxiety and wonder, _praying_ that he would be safe in his travels after they were torn apart.

Aged, tired, and weary — but _alive_.

Tears lifted to her sorrowful eyes.

" _Papa_ …?" she asked, her voice shredded on a whisper of disbelief.

"My sweet," he called, and the familiar nickname rushed blood into her legs. Adrenaline surged her forward and she sprinted into the opens arms of her father. She jumped into his grasp and he spun her, hugging her close to him, "my love," he whispered into her hair — his hands shaking as his daughter cried into his shoulder.

"Oh, Papa!" she whimpered, her body involuntarily quivering from the sight of him — _alive_ and well and _here!_ "I thought he had you as a captive! I thought…I thought you were dead."

He rubbed the back of her hair, consoling her, "shh, none of that right now. I've searched for you for years. I'm _so_ sorry, I'm so so sorry I couldn't stop them."

And like a flood gate, she could remember being torn from this man that raised her. The man that told her she could be a practitioner of medicine just like himself, the one that taught her manners and never left her bed side when she came down with a cold.

He pulled away to kiss her forehead, the familiar feeling of _home_ enveloped her small form, and he brushed away her tears as if she were a child again after taking a hard fall, "after our letters…I didn't know what happened to you," she breathed with a relieved smile.

And like the man she remembered, he calmed her bleeding heart by tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "don't think this world will get rid of me that easy, we're survivors from Kanazawa, and don't ever forget that, My Sweet."

They stayed in the gardens for another hour, only until her ears and nose were red rimmed from the dropping temperature of the night did they decide to retire for the night and speak in the morning.

High above them, Madara leaned quietly against the window frame from his chambers, having watched the entirety of their heart felt reunion. The smile that danced across her face had been worth it. It tilted her pouty lips, the jovial nature that projected her innocence to this cruel world displayed itself in the presence of her father.

With his arms crossed, he resembled a perched raven, midnight tresses contrasting against his pale skin, and in this rare moment of her happiness, a warm swell filled him knowing he had been (for once) the cause of her smile.

Still, even with her boyish locks she looked magnificent under the stardust moonlight. A prominent presence built itself within her, and he couldn't wait to watch it unfold before him. Madara traced over the gentle curve of her jaw, her sweepingly wide cheeks, and glimmering orbs that twinkled whimsically at her father.

The night wore on with the events of the wedding, and by now Izuna would be bedding his bride by now — leaving the rest of their guests to their own devices or to retire for the night.

Once the father and daughter duo disappeared into the dark castle, Madara removed himself from the window to glance at the vile set on his desk by the woman that spoke of prophecy so many nights ago. He grasped the small vile and inspected it for the hundredth time, wondering what the substance could possibly do.

And _why_ she came to him so abruptly.

He was not a man of myth or magic.

Prophecies were witch talk, and her ability to hold him down so effortlessly didn't sit well with the enamored Uchiha. Part of him wanted to listen to the warning, but to listen would to believe in the downfall of his people, and he would _never_ let that happen.

The raven-esque male decided to forget about it for now, because tomorrow would be the day Sakura would ask him for permission to see the damnable Senju.

It would also be the day they would speak to one another.

Shrugging off his robe, he stood in the bathing light of stars — a fiery pinkette stealing his thoughts.

xox

_Dark Cells  
_ _Uchiha Stronghold_

In the twilight hours, Tobirama knew a new day had come by the changing temperature within the cells. The sun would warm the stone walls, signaling another day trapped in the Uchiha stronghold, another day where he had little knowledge of what was happening outside these dark corners.

The sound of light footsteps caught his attention, and he figured it was one of the hand maidens assigned to his care. They had taken him to the healer the day prior, and came every other day — so today the only visitor _should_ have been the guard.

A torch light came into view, blinding the Senju and forcing him to cover his eyes with his forearm.

The small, hitched gasp drew his attention, and he blinked back the inky darkness.

In their adjustment to the light, the idly perfect face of the woman he grudgingly left behind appeared beneath his cloak.

Sakura drew the heavy material off — "Tobi…?" her voice wondered hesitantly.

He appeared from the shadows, and like the leopard she had always seen in him, he looked too big for this cage — he wasn't meant for captivity. She collapsed onto her knees in front of the bars of his cell, her heart threatening to collapse in itself — _how cruel._

How could they keep him like this?

He looked so _weak_ compared to the man that left.

"Sakura…" he dropped to her level, voice tight with concerned shock, "what are you doing here?"

_If she's here…Then Madara wasn't lying._

"You're alive!" she cried softly, setting down the lantern to reach through the cold bars to caress his cheek.

_Don't cry,_ he never wanted to be a source for her tears.

He leaned into her gentle touch, wishing for nothing more than the ability to hold her, "…how did you get here?" his normally stern voice lightened, and he reached forward to thumb away her tears.

She smiled sadly, "I left by myself…I traveled here. I couldn't stomach the thought of you dying if I could do something…I'm sorry I took so long..!" her words rushed out in a hushed whisper, unable to collect her thoughts quickly enough.

Tobirama moved his hand to her short hair, "why are you apologizing? I got myself into this mess, you should have stayed with my brother, where you're _safe_."

Sakura bit her lip to stop it from quivering, "…if I hadn't left to begin with, none of this would have happened. You would be safe at home—" her internalizing blame was endearing, she seemed to hold a world of empathy on her small shoulders — but he couldn't stomach that thought.

His cerise colored eyes narrowed, "then _we_ wouldn't have met. And I don't want to know a world where I don't meet you," he admitted, causing a pained sob to escape her throat. Normally, words came easy to her - but Sakura couldn't bring herself to speak. The over exertion of his throat left it raw and raspy, and he started to cough, attempting in vain to gain control over his body.

Sakura moved forward, the bars were big enough for her to reach her arm in, but there was nothing she could do to help him. From her cloak she brought her canteen to his lips through the bars, "please — drink."

He gulped the water down, taking deep breaths to calm his burning lungs.

The pity for him on her face killed him, he felt pathetic caged behind this steel trap.

When he felt the ability to use his voice again, the Senju outlined her delicate face with his eyes, drinking in her presence, his omission brought a fresh round of relieved tears that fell down her pink cheeks, and she feebly tried to get closer to him through the tight knit bars.

"I don't like that look on your face." To cheer her up, he grabbed the ribbon from his hakama's pocket, "…because of you, I'm still alive." He brought it into the light, causing his cherry blossom to gasp.

Wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, she lightly laughed, "I didn't think that would actually work."

The normally stoic man felt his guard drop.

Months of hoping to see her face.

Months of planning on what he would say.

Long hours praying to the gods that he would get to see her again.

Tobirama wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her and drag her back west with him, let the war rage without them.

He would marry her and he would tell her everything he had been afraid to open up about before.

_Kami_ , he loved her.

Now here she was, and he felt like a fool with the inability to speak.

He gripped her hand in his, the warmth of hers sending goosebumps bursting on his arms — and it took him a moment to realize she was wearing _his_ cloak, a swell of pride erupted in his chest. The senju crest on her collar befit her, "I'm going to get out of here and take you with me," he promised once more.

Sakura averted her gaze, "…I don't think that will work this time."

Tobirama wanted to kick these bars down and bring her into his arms, "why?"

She couldn't tell him that she planned to stay.

She would help him escape, but Madara would never let her leave.

Not again.

Sakura bit her lip, "the war will never end if I go with you—"

He remembered Madara's clear words, his intention to wed Sakura would only be a matter of time, and they had to leave before then.

"This war is beyond you," he steeled his voice, jolting her, "it's been brewing for years — it was only a matter of time before Madara found a reason to cut the treaty, you were just an added benefit…Our clan has done unforgivable things…There's no ending it." He stopped himself, carefully watching her reaction.

The young woman knew somewhere within her that she was helpless.

No matter what she did, the lives of the many men and women would be lost.

Two clans were high above an auctioned off concubine.

The war already blossomed through the central valleys — once Hashirama lowered the bridge, there would be no end to the sea of red.

A gruff cough from atop the dungeons entrance alerted her of the guards arrival.

Sakura ignored his proclamation, "I'm going to get you out of here…Please wait for me," she whispered sadly. The sound of the guards footsteps echoing down the steps forced her to grab her lantern, "I promise I'll be back!"

Tobirama tried to reach forward for her hand once more, "wait!" he didn't want her to leave, not yet. Like a beacon of pink in the darkness, he didn't want to lose her. The regret was palpable on her face — and with an apologetic shimmer of her eyes, she flipped the hood back on and disappeared into the dark shadows — leaving the Senju gripping the bars, cursing their circumstances and their fate.

With an angry growl, he punched the bars again once the light of her lantern disappeared along with her warmth.

xox

_Dining Hall  
_ _Uchiha Stronghold_

Sakura sat with her father talking since the young hours of the day after her visit with Tobirama.

She hadn't slept for nearly a day, but the course of her adrenaline still edged her on.

Her body was waiting for her discussion with Madara that was inevitably coming.

So instead, she ate with her father.

"My Sweet, you're so grown now."

He had little idea.

"I'm a woman now, Papa," she confirmed, her stomach still sour with the events from the morning.

Kazuya pursed his lips, "…I'm sorry I couldn't save you — I'm sorry I didn't come here sooner. I tried for years…I thought they—"

The look on her face drained the energy of their conversation.

"…What did they do to you?" although a energetic man with a bright, prosperous smile — the times when Kazuya's face turned deathly serious, or the concentrated face he mustered when he was saving the life of a patient made him seemed like two entirely different people.

Sakura set her chopsticks down, refusing to touch her plate, "nothing that can be changed now, Papa."

He brought his hand to his mouth to choke on the insinuation.

Kazuya raised her well enough to know she harbored her tragedies and tortured herself by pushing all of her pain somewhere that she never tapped into until it ate her alive. "I'm so sorry—"

Sakura grabbed her father's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "please…Let us talk about something else, the past stays in the past."

They began alight with a new topic, but a demanding presence entered the grand hall. In light of the wedding ceremony, Madara had seen to most of his guests departures — many of which had left back to the east or north, Uchiha and Hyuga respectively. All that remained were the housed troops, a few Hyuga advisors, and Hanabi's chosen court of handmaidens and security.

The castle quieted after the long procession, and Sakura was grateful for the decline in activity.

"Sakura," the rida broke into their conversation, Kazuya stood to bow — Sakura slowly followed suit.

"Yes, Madara-sama?" she flattened her kimono to her legs, heart palpatating in the view of what was surely to come.

"Forgive the interruption, Kazuya-san — but I need to speak with your daughter." Madara was never one to _ask_ permission, the change of disposition confused her, but what annoyed her more was being glossed over.

Kazuya nodded his head in understanding, "of course, Madara-sama."

He led her silently through the endless halls.

It wasn't until they came upon large oak doors that he finally stopped, opening it to reveal a world of books covering the expanse of the large walls, all granulated with leather covers and different areas to read. Her favorite was a small perch molded into the window that faced over the gardens, offering her an ample view of the lake and thick trees surrounding the stronghold.

Words lodged themselves in her throat, and she tentatively walked forward — unsure whether or not to trace her fingers over the spiraling bounds that each held a story of their own.

The door shut behind them, leaving her alone with the war lord.

It would be a lie to say fear and anticipation didn't grip her like a vice.

Cornered by the man that haunted her dreams, she turned to face him as he silently pulled out a scroll.

Somehow, she found her voice, "I…wanted to thank you for bringing my father safely here."

Truthfully, it had been such a shock.

All at the hand of this man.

At first, she had wrongly assumed he would treat her father like a prisoner - but he reunited them.

Though, she was no fool.

Madara may not be a liar, but all he did held intent and purpose.

"No need to thank me," Madara responded, "it was a promise I made to you long ago, I did tell you I'm a man of my word, this was an overdue reunion."

Sakura brought her hand to her chest, clutching at the tight space, how could he sound so calm?

She decided to sit herself on one of the nearby chairs, her legs threatening to give out. To look anywhere but him, she chose to watch the scenery outside the large glass windows, "are you angry with me?"

The scroll laid itself out on the large oak desk, he still didn't look at her — making her more nervous, "for what?"

_He's playing with me_.

Her shell hardened, "you _know_ what I'm talking about."

Finally, he looked at her.

Penetrating her gaze with his own, his contemptuous molten eyes breathed life into her cold body, "I was angry. You disappeared with a stranger. You threatened your safety. You left _me_."

The Madara she knew sprung back to life, the icy voice — the way he stalked her like a predator, "could you blame me? You…"

_No. Don't tell him._

"I what?" he edged her forward, and if she slipped — there would be no one there to catch her.

"I hated it, the way you treated me — like some sort of _prisoner._ After everything…After everything you said to me, I'm happy I left." At least now she knew what it felt like to be in the arms of someone that _truly_ loves you.

"You were never a prisoner," he callously snapped, "I gave you everything you wanted, and yet you _left_."

This conversation had been brewing within them for months.

Her loathing for this man stabbed at her soul, "everything I _wanted?_ You left me with bruises, you used me each night and threw me away…I would have been happy continuing how things were even if you were to have gotten married…But why? Why did you treat me like I was worth _nothing?_ "

The same question begged at her for an answer, going against her rationality in an attempt to understand.

"I _bought_ you, or did you never understand that dynamic in our relationship?" he gripped the edges of the table so forcefully his knuckles turned white.

Exhaustion was beginning to creep on her — bearing her soul in the face of her demons.

Sakura stood, enraged with his patriarchal thinking, "I'm _not_ something to own! I _never_ was!" the exertion of her emotion caused frustrated tears to surface.

Madara clenched his jaw, trying to salvage the conversation, "…I've always admired your resilient spirit. And I'll admit I made mistakes in the duration of your time with me," he stalled, finding the prophets words an unnerving reminder to yield his temper.

_There will come a day when you must set aside your pride and beg._

"—I need you to understand there were other issues that prevented…A better outcome for us at the time," he tried to explain.

"Like your father?" she tuffed sarcastically, "I never expected anything of you. Yet…" Sakura stopped, her throat burned — _why is this so hard?_

The mention of his father gripped at him, "yet _what_?" he implored.

Her head dropped, and feebly she clutched the part of her chest that harbored her past, her shoulders shook with the pain that seeped through her delicately knit cracks. Sakura couldn't look at him — the words spilled from parted lips, "yet I loved you," she whispered, "I loved you so much I couldn't bear it!"

Their eyes met.

Broken.

A beautiful, innocent, but tragically broken woman stood in front of him.

Silence ensued.

Like a caretaker of a wounded animal, Madara rounded the corner of the desk slowly, careful not to frighten her when he closed the distance between them.

With a practiced touch, he drew her to his chest - heavy arms wrapped around her.

"If we could go back, would you do it again?" he questioned her, his thick voice danced around her, and she hugged herself, leafy-green eyes glistened in an attempt to find an answer.

Would it be a lie to say no?

_Sakura splashed water at him when her feet touched the sea. He stripped himself and grasped her, throwing them both into the waves of water — her hysterical giggling stopped only by their conjoined laughter. By the time they were done rolling in the sand later that evening, it took his guards to remind them that they needed to start returning home - although neither of them wanted to break the spell of their day.  
_

_Another time, she spent the day reverently talking about a book — lounging with her back pressed to his chest, and he merely listened. Madara watched her, fascinated by her animatic nature about the things that interested her._  
That night, they danced in the ballroom by themselves after she excitedly explained the scene earlier that morning, she was hugged close to his chest - and with the light tilt of her head, he captured her in a sweeping kiss, only to pull away and memorize her eyes.

_"Kami, you're gorgeous."_

Still.

_The long nights of willfully twisting in his bed, consumed by his fever and passion. Her moans silenced with his bruising lips, bit down by the feel of him sheathing himself inside her. His body covered hers as their skin slapped against each other — her body coiling into the pleasure he offered. Once they were done and his seed was deep within her, he would pull her close and murmur a forever of sweet nothings until she fell asleep, their hands threaded with one another resting on her belly._

They say it's easy to forget the pain that another causes with distance, only outshone by the positive memories.

"Yes."

A look of relief swept over him.

"But I don't love you anymore," Sakura glanced out the window, pulling out of his embrace, "…I'm not the same naive girl you bought, Madara- _sama."_

His face frosted with an unreadable expression. The valiance he openly displayed for a brief moment closed with her dispassionate statement, glinting darkly — he motioned towards the scroll, "then perhaps it's best if you read this."

Sakura stuttered, his quick change queuing her confused curiosity.

Slowly, she moved to read the scroll — passing by him as he refused to move. Their arms touched briefly, and it took a reverent amount of control for Madara not to trap her between himself and the desk.

Focusing on the scroll — Sakura's quizzical eyes drank the kanji.

Her lips parted in a silent question.

"…What is this?"

"Your lineage," he stated simply, moving himself from the desk to search for a map.

_Lineage._

_"_ _You have a duty, child — one that will affect our lineage."_

The angelic woman.

Spots danced in her vision, to right herself she leaned on the desk — eyes scavenging the scroll for the truth.

"The people from Kanazawa had been there for centuries…This can't be possible."

Madara set the map on the desk, spreading it out in front of her, "it is. Many of the Kanazawa settlers came from this area," he pointed to the northern area of the map, "however, due to the Western Rogues — many of them fled to southern Uzumaki territory before they came under Senju protection, combining your villages ancestors with the blood of the Uzumaki."

Sakura felt the air puncture from her lungs.

"That…That doesn't matter, I was born and raised in Kanazawa," she said firmly, refusing to behest in anything that happened decades before her.

The Uchiha clan head circled around the desk, standing beside her. The arms on her hair stood up, eliciting a small chill to kiss her skin, "you were sent from the Uzumaki as a child back to Kanazawa once the Western Rogues started encroaching on your native land….Unfortunately, it seems this information was kept secret from your village and the Senju."

The map seemed to enlarge, in conjunction with the information on the scroll.

_No._

"How do you know all of this?" her voice tightened, strained under the information.

"I spoke with Kazuya-san."

Her chest dropped.

Sakura's face paled, her sharp intellect could put the clues together, "and where did you find this scroll?"

Madara paused, "your father took it with him when your village was attacked."

She felt faint.

The memories of the night played like a clear dream.

_"_ _Sakura! You need to go with the other girls and the elders,_ **_now_ ** _!" Kazuya snapped at her, turning to head back into the village. Carefully, he wrapped her shoulders with a blanket and covered her mouth to protect her from the heavy air. The world was a billowing world of black smoke — the fires wrapped around her village, the screams of the men fighting and women being dragged from their homes paralyzed her._

_"_ _No!" she tried to keep him with her, pleading with him to stay, "don't leave me!"_

_Kazuya ripped his arm from her, "I said_ **_go_ ** _! I'll be there soon!"_

_And he ran._

_Ran back into the flames of their ancestral homes in search of something, leaving Sakura on the ground — unable to move amongst the chaos._

_Everything bled red._

_Tears stained her cheeks, a layer of ash started to cover the ground — the sounds of the children screaming forced her legs to move._

_She wound herself through the village, using the familiar short cuts to meet with the other women and children evacuating._

_She tried._

_She tried so hard to stop the soiled bloody hands from grabbing her._

_It wasn't until she witnessed her whole village burn to the ground — the bodies of her friends and people she grew up tossed in a shameless heap by the Rogues. Their bodies decapitated and forgotten, the scent alone made her want to puke. She was tossed into the cage, chained and strapped with the other girls her age._

_Her father spotted her, she screamed for him._

_"_ _Sakura!"_

_They started beating him in front of her — and there was nothing she could do but cry after her father until they knocked her unconscious._

A large hand covered her own, snapping her out of her reverie.

"Are you alright?" Madara leaned closer to her, the fresh scent of wood and pine heedlessly followed him.

"I was just…I'm fine," she feigned — slowly removing her hand from beneath his. "I think I need to rest."

It was too much.

Madara straightened, pinning her down with a concerned gaze, noticing the heat on her cheeks and the way her body started to sway, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, "you're burning up."

It happened much too quickly. The exhaustion from her travels and reunions on all fronts plagued her, the over exertion of her body forced her to collapse in his arms. " _Mira_!" Madara bellowed, "get Kazuya!" he yelled from inside the study.

xox

_Midnight's Run  
Ocean Front_

A soft hand brushed against her forehead — touching the yin seal. The sharp sting brought her to reality, and Sakura woke with a start.

"Shh, my child — you're safe here," a melodious voice woke her, one that rang familiarly in her ears.

The scent of ocean salt and seaweed lured her upwards, blinking back her daze and mild confusion at the sight of such a grandeur body of water.

Oddly, fear didn't grip her.

The relaxed momentum varied — and Sakura dug her fingers into the damp sand, the water lapping at her feet when it rolled forward, it's crescendo tugging and pulling at the sand in a rhythmic balance.

"Where are we?" Sakura wondered idly, turning to face the angelic woman.

"I decided to bring you here to the coastal front. We gain power from sources of natural energy, and I need your body to heal while we're here," she let her fingers drag through the sand, allowing the millions of microscopic pieces to fall between them.

Sakura, with the conjoined frustration of the past day, sighed — beaten and annoyed, "I need you to explain to me what these dreams are, your riddles aren't helping me," she bit at her.

The woman laughed, so airy and light it further irritated her, "I suppose you're right. In the beginning I was confused just as you are now."

These dreams were becoming bothersome.

With a hard stare, Sakura turned on the woman — face ripe with annoyance, "who are you?"

"Your mother."

" _Lies_ — my mother died years ago. It's been my father and I since I can remember." The touchy subject left her tongue sharp, daring the woman the speak further on it.

"I wonder why that is. Do you have any memories of her?"

The questioned stalled her, unable to provide any, "no, she died when I was a babe."

"It's what you were led to believe. I had to give you away, you were born of me — and I hoped you would grow safely in the village, but fate finds a way to grasp us. I was not absent from your life, I hope you understand that," the woman spoke with sincerity, identical orbs pleading with her to understand.

"Why should I believe you?" Sakura shot, "only recently have these dreams started — you're having me question everything I've ever known, you're a stranger to me."

A gentle, yet sardonic smile graced the woman's lips, "you're more like me than you think, unfortunately."

Sakura refused to believe any more lies.

This didn't make sense.

The information Madara told her didn't make sense.

"Let me show you."

The woman leaned forward and touched Sakura's yin seal.

_The sound of a wailing babe among the commotion of the night and a raging storm outside did little to help the wet nurses who held the crying child. Briefly, the same woman weakly reached for the baby, begging for the nurses to let her hold her child._

_Their bodies touched, and the wisps of bright pink hair felt airy against her hands - laughing at the proposition that neither her or Kazuya had pink hair._

The whisper of spring.

_"_ _My baby…." she whispered, cuddling the child closer to her breast._

_A shot of lightning sparked through the sky, quaking the stone building._

_"_ _What will you name her, Azul-sama?" one of the women asked, "or shall we wait for Kazuya-sama?"  
_

_A waning smile displayed itself on her face, filled with an extraordinary amount of love only a mother could offer her child, "Sakura…Her name is Sakura."_

Sakura watched the scene, enraptured by the prolific clarity of the memory — only to see it change. The child grew, now a few moons, but still a helpless babe.

Could that really be her?

_"_ _Azul-sama! We must go now! They're searching for you and Sakura-hime!" an armored guard led them through the back hallways of an unknown castle — the blond woman tucking her child close to her chest to silence her bubbling cries._

_In the distance, the sound of doors breaking open alerted the duo._

_The guard stood protectively in front of Azul, sword in hand — "go! I''ll hold them off!"_

_The priestess stopped, understanding the time was now._

Sakura could _feel_ the eminent danger.

The sense of depravity.

How it feels to be unfairly torn from your child.

Abruptly, with a bag packed and a host of scrolls, Kazuya arrived - bringing her close to him, "we need to go."

Sakura gasped, attempting to reach out into the scene, but grasped air, "… _Papa_?"

_"Anata!_ _" Azul lamented, cursing fate and the string of gods that forced her hand, "I need you to take Sakura from me."_

_The knight surged forward, "Kazuya-sama, they're coming!"  
_

_In the dreaded nights of their discovery, Azul prayed this wouldn't happen. Her husband grabbed her hand, "no, I refuse to leave you."_

_Azule knew, knew this would be the only way for her daughter to have a bare chance at a normal life. They would never stop hunting them, their string of people were never safe — but if she could provide this one opportunity…Her resolve straightened her shoulders._

_Hot tears burned her cheeks._

_"_ _Come with me," he murmured once the shouting grabbed at the walls around them._

_With hard thanks to their knight, they disappeared through the house - only to hear the heart wrenching battle of a man dying to save his Lord._

_That night, on a eerily calm spring morning — Azul and Kazuya hid in the back forests of her temporary home, crouched by a dreary cave._

_"_ _You need to take Sakura and keep her hidden in Kanazawa, understood? Our people are there." There was no time for a goodbye, it broke her to do this. "They must never know of my existence, and can_ **_never_ ** _know about her!" her body shook with the exertion of their escape, and Kazuya feebly grabbed their daughter._

_Azul kissed Sakura's forehead, her face twisted in pain, "thank you, Sakura."_

_For the first time, she didn't experience the dreaded loneliness accompanied with her power._

_"_ _Don't do this," Kazuya begged her, "I can't do this without you."_

_Azule had to fight the urge to run with them, fight the insistent yelling of her body to instinctively stay with them, "you must — I apologize for putting this burden on you."_

_Briefly, he grasped her arm — "will we ever see you?"_

_Before her, the portrait of her family ingrained itself in her head._

_She kissed him, bidding their farewell — unable to voice the broken promise._

_There were laws._

_And she had broken them already by revealing her secret.  
_

_Kazuya understood the finality of their kiss._

_The baby peered up at her parents, wondering eyes soaking in the transparent feelings between them - unknowing to the last time her parents would be with one another.  
_

_Azul broke away first, "Kazuya — go, please!"_

_With one final glance towards her daughter — the priestess brushed her daughter's bangs out of her face._

_With tears unbidden in her eyes, she covered her mouth to stop the sob that threatened to erupt from her chest when he left. She waited, watching them disappear into the thicket of trees. The thought that they would be safe served as a mantra in her heart._

_When the hunters came — the world stopped._

The scenes flash throughout glimpses of her time growing up in Kanazawa.

Her first steps.

Her interest in medicine like her father.

Her playing with the other children.

Everything through the eyes of her mother.

Finally, they returned to the ocean front.

Sakura desperately reached for the conclusion of their story, facing this women who inexplicably mesmerized her, "you and Papa...?"

Azul sat beside her, and for the first time — her beautiful face was torn with sorrow, "we were lovers for sometime. Marked by fate when we met at a village ravaged with sickness, we had a small ceremony a mere fortnight later. Your father gave up his titles as an Uzumaki to escape with you — though the hunters didn't leave much of his house after their search for us."

"What _are_ we?" Sakura breathed, unsure if she was prepared for the answer.

"We're markers of time. Hunted for centuries by those that wish to use our power. Run out of the north by —"

"Those that believed us to be evil," Sakura finished, remembering the tales the elderly women would tell the children. The hundreds of tales that she thought to be used to scare the young children before bed turned out to be true.

"So you know," Azul waved her hand, and with the pull of their bodies — they appeared once more in the glass room.

Within the glass, hundreds of memories coalesced into the fine mirrors, reflecting both of their memories.

In awe, Sakura reached forward to run her fingers against the smooth surface.

"Your father has done his duty, but I cannot keep this from you any longer — your power will be far greater than mine." She watched her daughter flick through the memories reflecting back at them.

Sakura bit her lip, humbled by the proclamation, "but I don't have any power."

It was then that the memory of her first portion of her journey east arrived.

The man with the bandages in the tavern.

Him ripping her pants off, her futile struggle to kick him off of her.

Azul looked on with contempt, "do you remember this?"

When she blacked out — the paralyzing fear that left her unconscious on the floor, the seizing _need_ to get away from the makeshift trading village. It came back to her in a rush, and she gripped her head to stop the onslaught of the memory. Azul touched her daughter's shoulder, passing the memory on.

"I do," Sakura confirmed, trying to regain control of her breathing, "what happened?"

"Unknowingly, you used your power without a source of significant energy nearby. Our bodies will always remember, but as we are above time — the event never took place," her mother attempted to explain, but it still left Sakura confused.

"How do I fit into all of this?" Sakura beseeched her for clarity.

The mirrors shifted, soon quivering with her heightening disposition.

Azul watched carefully, but closed her eyes, trying to make her words concise. "Sakura — gods, you're so beautiful. I thank fate each day that I've had the chance to see you again." Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, and slowly — the tenderness of her warmth lulled Sakura to hug her back, "you're the inheritor of my power. Soon, I will no longer be of this world — and you will take on the responsibility of time."

Sakura grabbed onto her kimono, _hoping_ she understood, hoping to ground herself to her mother.

"Now sleep."

The mirrors shattered, sending her into a deep slumber.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold_

Kazuya sat by his daughter's bedside, having extricated a diagnosis of exhaustion.

He blinked back the daze of sleep, refusing to leave her.

The only thing keeping him awake were the lies that were building into a strong, palpable mound behind him, pushing him further into a corner like a wild beast.

For the sake of his family, he lied to Madara.

The man was inching towards the truth — and as clever as the myths said about him, Kazuya knew it was within him to find out how special his daughter was, the trapping and titles would follow, and their obscurity would fade. This fear perpetuated itself, and he lied.

To deviate attention from Azul, he claimed to not be her father.

Let another — _nameless_ face be her true father.

His house had been destroyed that night, and he fell into oblivion, a traveling wanderer and a practitioner of medicine until they arrived in Kanazawa, leaving his past in the forest with his lover. With open arms, they lived in the village of Kanazawa peacefully — and to this day he wonders if Azul is alive.

It pained him to think his wife would never see their daughter. See how _similar_ she looked to both of them - marked by spring hair and wild eyes.

Did she see the strong woman their daughter turned into?

How she managed to _live_ with a world against her.

Sakura inherited the same valor and tenacity for freedom and a will for life that burns as bright as her mother's.

As a man he can only hope one day they will all be together again.

Kazuya shifts in his seat, bringing his hand to his lips - grateful for their union, somehow brought together on the coattails of Madara's whim.

Intermittently, the war lord enters to check on her, and Kazuya hides behind his lies.

Instead of worrying, he waits.

Unbeknownst to him, Azul watches behind a veil of timeless obscurity — feeling her force diminish in the wake of her child. With graceful steps, she keeps the scene of her family tightly knit in the fabric of her life.

It's when Sakura wakes up to her father's steady breathing that a flicker of recognition for the past enlightens her.

"Papa?" she murmurs groggily.

In the quiet morning, behind closed doors and peering ears — she questions her father about her mother. By his reaction, and the metered sorrow shared by her mother at the ocean's lip, Sakura is told the truth. The truth about their small marriage ceremony, the truth about the night they escaped, the truth about her birth. Sakura recounts the words her mother told her, and inexplicably comes to understand the truth in her life - bringing her father to relinquished tears.

"Sakura-san," Mira comes in eventually, apologetic for breaking their conversation, "Madara-sama requests to speak with you."

xox

_Great Senju Bridge_

Itama waited at the vanguard.

The area cleared days ago with the news of more troops emerging.

Once the bridge fell, the Uchiha would be waiting on the other side.

Hashirama's words echoed in his skull

_You attack at dawn. When their forces fall back, take the central valley._

This would either lead to their victory, or their death.

With a hard breath, the youngest general of the Senju waits for dawn to break.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold_

It's in the gardens where she could wistfully say she fell in love.

It's in the gardens where he shattered her.

It's in the gardens again that they're reunited.

The information left her in a hazy daze, though rest served her well for the duration of the last day. She arrived in a long kimono, silks of layered crimson and a white obi wrapped tightly around around her petite waist. Madara made it evidently clear he wanted her to adorned in the colors of his clan, as the crest of the Uchoha sewed proudly on her sleeves. Too tired to fight — her short hair was pinned back, giving her an elven look against the multitude of flowers sprouting in the oncoming spring air.

Dressed in his armor, he waited for her to walk to him before offering her his hand.

Without hesitation, she gripped her hands behind her back, refusing him.

Something clever glinted in his eye, but he chose to drop it.

"I hope you're feeling better," Madara began.

Sakura nodded, "I am, you wanted to speak with me?" she clipped her words, wishing she could rush to the cells once more and reach for her leopard and finish this damnable conversation.

The frustration could be cut between them — both varied in their approach to the other. "You spoke with Kazuya this morning, I assume our conversation from yesterday isn't all a validation of lies on my behalf."

Sakura glanced away, mindlessly touching a soft petal, "he confirmed everything you told me, Madara-sama."

As a rida, he enjoyed an appropriate amount of power over those he lorded over, and just as the day when he brought her to his compound, she kept herself an arm's length away, testing him, "understandably, you abhor me. Allow me to court you properly, Skaura."

He stopped.

A sardonic tilt of her lips clenched her, "and if I refuse?"

The fiery spirit dwindled when his face distorted, the tilt of his brows replicating the power he still held over her, "I know your father lied to me. Your his blood, and seeing as a branch of the Uzumaki have decided to rebel — it's in both of your interest to start telling me the truth."

And somehow, he managed to quicken her heart.

How did he know?

The look of shock revealed the truth of his words, allowing him to smirk, "I can't fathom why he would lie — the defecting branch is in open rebellion. Once they win, their titles fall onto him, in accordance with him being the last son of his house…You have a noble birthright."

The news didn't surprise her.

Suddenly, and aberrantly she understood his intention.

"No…"

Madara, tired of her despondent attitude, gripped her chin to look up at him, "I was wrong to have treated you so horridly, but you still belong to _me._ You may hate me, but I never left you — did I?"

Throughout her journey, the center piece of her life had been this man.

She bit her tongue until the taste of iron tinged her palate — she didn't want to give him anything else.

The truth revealed itself in the way her eyes lined his face, acknowledging him.

He let her go.

Sakura didn't recoil, but instead weakly gripped the sleeve of his hakama.

"I've never met a woman such as yourself," he guided his thumb over her bottom lip, soon his hand tangled in the pink starlight of her hair. "I love you, sickeningly so. You've enraptured me, and I'm afraid there's no letting go for either of us."

It happened before she could stop it.

The war general, the prestigious head of the Uchiha clan knelt before her, traditionally sanctioned in his formal armor, broad shoulders holding a world of glory and confidence — in contrast he delicately held her hand in his own.

Dark, smoldering eyes pinned her own.

And it's here in the gardens that he proposed to her.

"Marry me, Sakura."

xox

_Great Senju Bridge_

Itama waited for the final blow.

Who would have known they would have Uzumaki forces waiting for them as well?

The collision of colors now stained with blood served as a detrimental victory for the Uchiha.

The general above him smirked, and he would give anything to stop the harrowing cries of his men dying around him. They would rather die on the battlefield, given an honorary death — but who was he to have led them here?

Tobirama and Hashi were right, he was the softest.

_I'm sorry, brothers._

Now with the bridge over ran by their enemy — their territory would be ravaged.

He failed.

Somewhere, he heard the iconic laughter of his eldest brother, the fine tuned melodic stringing of the violin by his mother, and the barely-there smirk that Tobirama paraded. Even the chaste goading of his younger brother long since passed eased him into the embrace of death.

The sword pierced through his chest.

Death, he supposed — had long been coming.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold  
_Dark Cells__

In the darkness — his senses were fine tuned.

Still, Tobirama waited for Sakura to return.

In the midst of his valiant patience — the taste of blood conquered his mouth.

Like the beast they took him for, he roared to life — understanding that one, if not both of his brothers had died.


	18. Sins and Sinners

Present, pt 9

* * *

The next morning, Madara knew something was wrong.

Or perhaps it was his guilty conscience.

Call it an expert intuition, but he could sense her rolling thunder of anger a mile away.

More than that, she didn't return home from work at her usual time.

He left her a text message, and once she left him on read — the clan leader decided to let it go.

 _'_ _Let her play out her little quarrel for now.'_

Two days later, in the middle of his business meeting with Itachi and a couple of investors from the states — Madara felt his phone ring in his pocket.

Instinctively, and something he never had with another woman — he _knew_ it was Sakura that was calling.

"If you'll please excuse me, I have to take this," Madara excused himself from the room filled with executives — he had been preoccupied with getting their assets settled, and as droll and time consuming such endeavors were, he felt enlivened at the prospect of speaking with Sakura.

"Ah, Sak—"

"Where are you?" her constricted voice did nothing to veil her anger.

"In a _meeting_ , is it an emergency?" he halfway expected this type of greeting, and he leaned back against the wall — his guard raising.

"No! But I need to talk to you!"

Madara frowned, wondering where her sense of urgency came from. Shaking his wrist to check his watch, he had several more meetings of dry business contracts to finish before he could pull away.

"Meet me at Mirago around noon, I have to go."

Before the pinkette could yell at him, he hung up.

Call it a sixth sense, but he had a feeling their first fight was coming.

Still, he checked his watch once more — smirking to himself.

Today would be a good day.

xox  
_Residente Bar  
Downtown Kyoto_

The sound of men filing dirty money and the occasional sniff filled the room, each individual casually waiting for their boss to arrive, "Tobi — ?" one of his fellow yakuza members offered a bag of xanax, the little pills innocently shuffled into a clear bag.

Tobirama refused, hardly acknowledging the offer to continue numbly counting the coke bricks that were going to be sold to the offset districts, their fate destined to being ingested by men in backdoor alleys and young girls sneaking away to the bathroom to snort lines with their friends — thinking their decisions were entailed in a fun weekend.

He tried not to think of the repercussions of his work, but as his soiled hands continued to touch the tightly wrapped bricks, he paused to gather himself.

This was getting harder each day.

The man that offered him the xanax raised a curious brow, "you ok there, bud?"

Haori Hikaru — one of the more gentle faced men that Tobirama found himself attached to. Or possibly the only person in the entirety of their faction that he would consider a "friend."

He pushed his hand to his temples, combating the rising headache, "I took some pain killers earlier, but I can't get rid of these migraines."

Before Hikaru could answer, Raiden burst through the door — face red with unhinged anger, "those fuckers sent _this!_ "

He chucked the bag against the wall, causing its contents to spill at his men's feet.

A gold watch, a cross necklace, and the Yakuza's ring — crested with the initials of Raiden Otsuki's little brother on either side.

Tobirama looked away, already guessing what events transpired for the Uchiha to send back these items as a fair warning.

"Who was partnered with Subaru that day?!" Raiden roared, burly shoulders shaking with unequivocally meditated anger.

All men were silent, save for the few who shuffled in the back — the light atmosphere from before suddenly disparaged from the room.

"That fucker Madara _killed_ my younger brother! And has the audacity to send back his shit as a _threat_ to ALL of us! Or are you dim-witted fucks not understanding?!" Raiden grabbed his gun from his holster — clicking off the safety and pointing it at one of his men.

 _Fuck,_ Tobirama could see the writing on the wall.

All men tensed, knowing it was to no avail that trying to calm down the raging bull — but Tobirama stood, sharp eyes knowing the pain of losing a brother, "Raiden!" the pressure among everyone turned their attention to the bold male, and his superior flared his nostrils — slowly pointing the gun towards him.

"Do _you_ know? Or do I have to make an example of you to get you guys to talk?"

In truth, Tobirama _should_ have been more afraid — but he couldn't help but think about when the information first came that Subary had been captured, how _easy_ it was for his faction leader to disregard his life if he did rat.

Nobody likes a rat.

"This is what they want. With the eastern faction dissolving in itself and causing that fucking mess last week don't you think it's interesting that _now_ Madara sends your brother's things? It's been _weeks_ since any of us have seen him!" Tobirama was restless, he hated himself for taking this job — he hated himself for being too involved, he hated the lies and the double crossing — having to look over his shoulder every minute, but this is what he needed to do.

Raiden bristled unhappily, his chest heaving, but the clear cut words made sense.

The men in the room murmured their agreement, backing up their normally quiet brother — causing the bulky man to slowly sizzle until his temper simmered evenly and let his gun drop to his side, limply held in his hand, "that was the _only_ brother I had," he growled, talking to Tobirama — or maybe himself.

The white haired male didn't have much to say, but felt some of the tension ease off of his shoulders — narrowly avoiding another expulsion of all the hard work he meandered through the years. They didn't need more men lost — if the Yakuza could pick up any semblance of organization maybe the Uchiha wouldn't hold this city in their grip.

A voice from the back piped up, "did Subaru _rat_?"

Raiden gripped his gun again, "no, you stupid fuck — if that were the case than something would have happened by now."

With the air in the room placated once again and the men argued back and forth _without_ the threat of violence, Tobirama sat himself down — his migraine returning with a vengeance for the disruption.

Within minutes — a low grumble that rustled the floor beneath them began to quiver within the bar.

Tobirama stilled, the bottles against the wall clanked against one another — and he instinctively reached for his gun. When he noticed the large shadow cast itself over the shaded windows, his eyes widened, "everyone _get down!_ "

Within seconds, bullets sprayed themselves through the windows and door — the detective rolled himself flat against the floor. The sound of the bullets ricocheting off the walls and his fellow brothers getting shot engulfed the bar.

Haori looked at him from his spot hidden behind a tipped over table, and Tobirama growled to himself as more men fell to the floor, their bodies seeping with blood from the multitude of machine gun rounds that blew holes through their bodies.

His ears burned.

He waited for them to reload.

Half of his brothers were either dead or found a spot to hide, and it occurred to him suddenly that Raiden lay on the floor, his mouth agape in a silent yell, eyes drained of the emotion they were filled with minutes seconds ago. Tobirama closed his eyes, gripping his gun — and counted.

_Three…_

The detective looked at Haori and the other men, signaling their return fire once they needed to reload.

_Two…_

He moved to lift himself.

The firing stopped.

_One…_

On his signal, all of the remaining men alive stood and returned fire, their guns blazing as the van sped away, and with his command, the men followed him as they left the building, their aim only good enough to scratch the disappearing black van, leaving a massacre in its wake.

When it was over, Tobirama turned and looked at the carnage that was their hideout.

He never liked the place or these men, but the realities of this were becoming more violent.

Haori walked up to him and brought both hands to his head — everyone was left breathless, unable to digest the scene. Slowly, they all looked inside to survey the damage.

It was a disgusting mess.

"I guess Subaru did rat on us, they shouldn't have known where our hideout was," Haori murmured, cursing the Uchiha. Tobirama didn't say anything, but counted at fifteen of them dead. The cops would be here soon, and they had loads of bricks they needed to move.

The remaining Yakuzua looked at him for direction, and without realizing it — Tobirama began giving orders, "get these bricks out of her _now!_ We move to the central hideout and tell them what happened, the cops will be here soon — _go!_ "

His men nodded and began moving, some sick to their stomach but obeyed none the less.

It wasn't until they were fleeing with the narcotics that Tobirama realized they were all looking at _him_ for direction, to which he feebly managed to get them out of there as the sound of sirens echoed in the distance.

In an ironic twist of fate — he became the new faction leader.

xox

_Mirago Lounge  
Downtown Kyoto_

Like the odd silence before an earthquake, where the slow rumbling of the earth leads to a premonition until the buildings are shaking, the Uchiha men idly chatting and drinking together in the afternoon like any normal day of the week were suddenly interrupted by the tectonic plates shifting uncontrollably in the small form of a pinkette bursting into the room.

"Sakura-chan!" the curly haired Uchiha greeted, "how are you doing today beau—"

Fire in her eyes and heat in her veins, Sakura pushed past the security guard and stomped up to the two cousins, "where is he?" she snapped to the familiar faces of Shisui and Izuna playing pool in the corner.

Both men stood straight, caught off guard by the petite woman, "Madara?" Shisui asked innocently.

The look on Sakura's face clearly read ' _no shit'_ — and both men glanced at each other, unsure of how to handle her.

"He should be here soon, he usually meets us here for lunch before getting back to the office…" he trailed off, inching away from the spitfire, sure she might punch one if not _both_ of them in the face.

Izuna, unafraid of the doctor, snickered, "having trouble with my brother already?"

"That's none of your business!" Sakura tuffed, putting her hands on her hips with a small tilt, "and you would be the _last_ person I would tell anything to!"

This time, they both laughed, "oh man, this is gonna be great," Izuna ruffled her hair like a child, moving past her to ready his shot, leaving Sakura fuming even harder than before.

_Why are these men so infuriating?!_

In that moment, the doors opened and Itachi and Madara walked in — nearly knocking her anger in the face at the sight of her ex's older brother standing there, but she set that aside for now.

Itachi did little but glance in her direction and move along — face void of any emotion.

It stung, a little.

Deciding to ignore him, she buckled herself and dangerously coiled herself as she reached Madara, "you! I need to speak with you, asshole!" Sakura snapped, face heated with the ferocity of her anger.

The curious eyes of all the men in the room bore down on them both.

"Well?" he edged, choosing to allow the bystanders.

Sakura looked behind her, the heads of black didn't even _act_ like they weren't paying attention, "…in private?" she hushed under her breath forcefully.

He didn't oblige, "whatever needs to be discussed can be spoken in front of these men, I trust them."

_Fine, if he wants to play that game._

Sakura grabbed her cell phone and pulled up the picture, "what the hell is this! Do you think I'm some _idiot_?" Shoving it in his face, her cheeks puffed and brows hitched, _waiting_ for him to try and lie to her.

For all intents and purposes, Madara didn't react how she expected. The recognition of the photo made him pause momentarily, but it passed just as quickly as it came.

He threw her for a loop by quirking a uniform brow, "and? Does it look like I was _entertaining_ that woman? It was a business venture, something I wouldn't expect you—"

" _Business?_ " she fumed, "I can't believe you would even resort to saying that! And after you made that promise to me the other night!"

The air changed around them, and Sakura realized she must have stepped on a sensitive land mine, because he glanced at his men for a split second before answering her, his jaw tightening in frustration, "I've made my intentions with you exceedingly clear, Sakura. I didn't _do_ anything with that woman, that's your choice to believe me or not, but I'm telling the truth."

He didn't like being forced to explain himself, but he wasn't ashamed to say it in front of his clan members — much to the surprise of each pair of dark eyes closely watching them. He could feel the shock with his declaration stemming from his brother, the one person who had been sure Madara would never settle down.

Well, it was good for everyone here that he enjoyed being unpredictable.

It momentarily subdued her.

In her confusion, Shisui and Izuna motioned from their spot by the pool table— catching their clan leader's attention. With a quick glance at their watch, the scene ended abruptly for everyone when their like-minded mission took precedence, "—we can continue this later at my apartment, I have to go."

Sakura gaped, grasping his forearm to root him, "no! I'm not done talking to you!"

All of the men gathered their things and began shuffling out of the lounge, and Madara tugged his arm away, "I'm sorry, you know I would love to stay and be berated by you for my misgivings, but we'll have to discuss this later." The sarcasm mixed with his dismissal pissed her off, and with a rueful glare Sakura pushed past him and left.

With a small sigh, Madara gathered himself — only to see the snicker stemming from his younger brother in barely manageable laughter, "have fun with _that_ later," he insinuated on his way out.

He didn't have time to think about that right now, the western faction of the Yakuza should be dead by now.

_xox_

_Downtown Kyoto  
Madara's Apartment_

She knew walking up to his apartment to give him a piece of her mind would have a consequence.

His message left her reeling, and his inability to answer his phone when _she_ should be the one upset with _him_ left her temper flaring dangerously. — _That asshole!_ Her knuckles rapped on the door callously, uncaring whether or not she interrupted him in the middle of something.

"Open up!" she growled, "I know you're in there!"

A minute before she decided to walk away — the door swung opened, revealing the prim and devastatingly intense gaze of Madara. "I'm surprised you didn't come sooner," he chimed, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. Madara noted the loose fitting, white cotton dress that she decided to wear — without a bra.

Half of him wondered if she did this on purpose, with piqued nipples peaking through the thin material.

Her glare spoke volumes, "how _dare_ you! You're the one that messed up here!"

The Uchiha looked back at her tempered face, enlightened by her fiery attitude. The guard on duty kept a straight face — but Madara knew their meeting would end in whispers if they continued here. To avoid mulling gossip within his clan, he stepped aside to let her in, "if you're going to yell at me — let's take it inside, no?"

The opportunity to step into his apartment complex for the first time left her hesitant. She purposely kept their meetings within her apartment or _anywhere_ but his residence. It left her feeling powerless — something she desperately needed in the confines of his home.

But his playful smirk enraged her once more, and grudgingly she pushed past him — purposely knocking her shoulder into his chest as she stepped inside.

What shocked her more was upon entering were the dark colors of black and scarlet that expertly swept his minimalistic complex. The highest rise offering one of the best views of the simmering city, blossoming the dwindling skyline.

Low lights cast a jaded glow within the open hall and living area — but more than that, she didn't expect to step into his living room, words lost on her lips.

Decorated on tables and hung on the walls were pictures of his family, various times within his life — some with business partners, but mostly of his family.

There on the mantle, a large framed portrait of his _entire_ clan hung neatly, captivating her.

With a hard sigh, she focused and tore herself from the distraction, "…why did you leave like that?" she quipped again, reminding herself as to why she was angry.

_Right, focus!_

Madara raised a curious brow, watching the little sphinx carefully tread through his apartment, "clan business, but I apologize for abruptly leaving - it was rude of me."

The spitfire erupted, " _right_ \- probably to, wait."

Was she being ridiculous?

His indignant attitude had Sakura questioning herself.

"Sakura," his curt voice held little room for argument, "I don't know what else I can say to have you understand my feelings for you. I was out with my clan at a gentleman's club — the picture was taken just before I told her to get off of me. I have no interest in those women, I'm interested in _you._ "

It beguiled him to try and understand this woman in front of him.

Sakura turned away from him, shying from his simple answer, "you took me to that ridge — I just, you _promised_ you wouldn't hurt me!"

His patience was running thin with this subject and he took a threatening step forward, "do you not take me for a man of my _word_? I've made it abundantly clear that I want _you._ I took you to a place my brother and I would frequent, a place I haven't taken any other woman. I didn't do anything with those women, I was handling a _business_ venture — if you can't understand that then don't displace your insecurities about other women as my fault."

Very rarely did Sakura ever get _this_ angry.

"Business venture?" she reeled, fists balling at her side. _Why are all these Uchiha men so awful?!_ "Do you take me for an _idiot_? At least have the courage to tell me you went there because you _wanted_ to be there!"

In that moment, the Uchiha clan head took the time to appreciate the way she wildly glared at him — her eyes were set alight, absorbing her anger and reflecting them from within her, cheeks flushed from exertion, her hair had loosened around her shoulders, and a wolfish grin encapsulated the intrigued male.

She was _captivating_.

And she was _his._

Without hesitating, Madara grasped her arm and pulled her to him, caging her against the wall — capturing her lips in an impassioned kiss.

The swift move caught her off guard, and in the light of her anger, she nearly refused him.

But the sheer _dominating_ aura perpetuated the air around them.

Senses heightened by her outburst — Sakura succumbed.

With a gruff, possessive growl — he nipped at her lip.

In response, she softly whimpered and opened her mouth.

Their tongues scraped against one another, and she sucked on the muscle — causing a shiver to wrap around Madara's shoulders. His hands began to search across her body, fingers leaving a hot trail of up her arms until they lost themselves in the soft petal locks of her hair. He gripped her hair at the nape, their mouths clashing against one another — and gods he was a man possessed.

Hovering over her, Madara felt his pants tightening — his length already engorged by her responsive body.

He palmed his way up her chest with his free hand, brushing against her nipple through the thin cotton of her dress.

Sakura gasped, her body heating at his administrative touches.

His hand captured her throat gently, and in a swift motion he tugged her head back.

They both opened their eyes.

Two forces of bright personas that needed _more._

His fingers on her throat tightened, and he removed himself from her lips — a slick of saliva hung between their lips, connecting them.

Sakura dizzily stared up at the man — a soft, heady moan enticed him further. Madara lingered his gaze on her swollen lips, nipping at them once more to remind her that he had been there — and he wouldn't be leaving.

He exposed more of her neck to him, dislodging their gaze. With a practiced ease, he left hot kisses on her chin, nuzzling himself further into her hair until the scent of jasmine invaded his senses.

The surgeon feebly lost her hands in the wild mane of his hair, working her fingers to remove his hair tie until it spilled around his shoulders — inky locks delightfully soft between her hands.

"Sakura," he breathed gruffly, dropping his hands to rest on either side of her head against the wall, attempting to reign himself, "do you want this?" he rasped, forehead resting on the top of her head.

The slick wetness built between her legs perpetuated the throb in her abdomen.

Did she want this?

With his essence captivating her — the alarms and walls she purposely set around him dissolved.

Gods, she _did_.

Horribly so.

She knew a part of her was a masochist.

In the winter of her life, he felt like summer.

Since the night she met him and guiltily envisioned herself riding him instead of Sasuke that plummeted her into an orgasm, she knew.

In a series of unfortunate events, she knew the repercussions of falling for the devil.

Good for them, because she was no angel — but a sinner falling.

Although his life consisted of work that frightened her, he had treated her well in contrast to the man that killed people and vowed to protect his clan. She admired that about him, and every corner she turned he was _there._ This multifaceted man managed to terrify, amaze, and drag out emotions that came so naturally it lulled her into the entirety of his being.

A red string tied around her.

"…Yes," she breathed — consumed by his body pressed against hers as the sun faded on the skyline, highlighting their faces.

Madara closed his eyes, finding salvation.

When he opened them, they beamed scarlet.

Her chest cinched.

With the tilt of her chin towards him, Madara stared down at her flushed face, noticing the sprinkled freckles hugging her cheeks in the waning light of day, "good girl."

The words rippled through her, causing goosebumps to burst on her sensitized skin.

Speechlessly, he hoisted her into his arms.

Her arms tangled themselves around his neck — clenching her legs to stop the budding want. Pointedly, she kissed his neck, sparking his skin and causing a low, animalistic growl to bubble in his chest, coiling more pleasure within her to garner this response from him.

With a playful nip and deep, bruising kiss, he carried her to his room.

Depositing her on the bed, Sakura had little time to adjust to her surroundings.

Dark silks with layered materials of black and grey complimented the room, what caught her attention was the bed facing the large, wide-paned windows and the dual, wall length mirrors on either side of the room.

"Sakura."

She whipped her attention back to him.

In the fading sunlight, he slowly started to remove his shirt — undoing his tie and pinning his red, primal eyes with hers.

She found it difficult to swallow.

He shrugged off his shirt — revealing the expanse of his broad shoulders and narrow waist, skin decorated with dozens of winding, story-telling tattoos. The defined, sculpted muscles constricted with her appraisal of his body, feebly her hands gripped the beddings to calm herself.

When the sound of his belt slicked off his pants — revealing the trail of hair leading to his crotch, her mouth dried.

Madara grinned at her sudden approval, "like what you see?"

The doctor tore her gaze away, blushing red.

" _Look_ at me," he commanded, the authority in his voice forced her to obey, squeezing her legs together to hide her arousal. Madara noticed this and walked forward, a glint of a promise in his eye. Belt in his hand, Sakura gulped as she watched the hunter come near.

Slowly, he wrapped the belt around her neck, careful to slip out her hair from beneath it.

The black leather kissed her skin, and he worked to loop it through — winding it until it closed measuredly against her throat.

Grip tightened on the belt, he smirked — penetrating her gaze to pull upward, forcing her to look up at his towering form, "I'm going to fuck you into that bed, do you understand?"

Sakura shivered.

With a harder tug, his eyes darkened, "I _said,_ do you understand?" voice virile with arousal, Sakura bit her lip to stop herself from crumbling.

" _Y-yes_ , Madara." The belt lightly constricted her airways, and unknown to her, it shot a pulse straight to her core.

_Kami, what's he doing to me?_

His free hand traced over her cheek until it ghosted against her plump lower lip, "fuck, you're so beautiful," he growled.

Sakura bit her lip, unable to stop the small whimper from searing through her lips.

The noise ignited an untamable wildfire because he coiled the belt around his hand, dragging her to her feet so he could plummet his lips on her own. Her legs congealed, and she dizzily wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against his body.

His hand gripped her ass, pulling her closer to feel his swollen cock through the material of their clothing.

Brazenly, Sakura skirted a hand to fit between them and his pants, her thumb swiping over his damp head, smearing his pre-cum on the tip — causing the heady male to hiss and buck into her hand.

In a brave display, she pulled from their kiss and brought her thumb to her mouth, licking the pre-cum with a sinuous tug of her lips.

Madara watched the show, yanking her neck back so he could ravage her lips once more.

Walking her back to the bed, he pushed her forward until her the back of her legs hit the bed.

"Turn over," he commanded once she fell onto the silk sheets.

Sakura peered up at him, the wetness of her arousal dampening her panties.

With the slight turn of her body, she bit her lip and turned over — bending over for him, arching her back and wriggling her hips. The male groaned low in his throat, his hands gilded over the creamy skin of her ass as her dress hiked, sliding his hand over the slit of her cheeks and tugged the offending material covering her to the side.

With her flesh exposed to him, Madara felt his cock twitch.

He sucked in a breath, eyeing her dripping slit.

 _Gods_ , he wanted her.

He wanted to mark a place deep within her that wouldn't be erased.

Madara let go of the belt and dropped to his knees, "open your legs further," his thick voice dictated her.

With shaky legs, she spread herself further, cheeks burning.

She had little time to think about how exposed she was when she felt his mouth descend on her cunt. His tongue slid along her glistening lips, he popped her clit between his lips —

" _Ah_!" Sakura careened off the bed, tossing her head back as she felt his hands grip the back of her thighs, forcing her to stay still.

A possessive growl erupted through his lips, vibrating against her — Sakura weakly gripped the dark sheets, nails digging to capture _something_ as he ate her out. " _Madara_!" she pined.

The sound of a sharp _slap!_ echoed within the room as he slapped her ass, eliciting another moan from the pinkette, he pulled away — mouth tainted with her juices, " **don't** move."

Expert fingers trailed their way up her quivering thighs. Her shapely legs were heaven for the Uchiha, and he bit the back of her thighs, groaning like a man starved of water, praising whatever god listened for the marvelous legs and ass on this woman.

His fingers carded her slit, Sakura stayed still — but she needed _more._

She needed _him._

Two fingers entered her, and her hips bustled back, "p- _please,"_ the doctor whimpered.

Madara smirked against her skin, "…please _what_?" he edged, fascinating by the way her tight walls gripped onto his fingers as he scissored her, dipping his fingers further to press against her front — causing her to bite her lip to stop a perilous cry.

The celebrated male grabbed the belt again, tugging to pull her head back. Body arched for him, he tightened his grip, elated in the way her skin was beginning to form a layer of sweat. "What do you want, baby?" he goaded.

_I hate him._

She hated him for constricting her throat, his mouth assaulting her clit, tongue expertly rolling the swollen nub. Intermittently, his sucking was drawing her close to the edge, "I—I need to cum!" she mewled.

As promised, he gave her what she wanted.

With the maddening thrust of his fingers, he sucked hard on her clit.

Her orgasm tore through her.

From the tips of her toes to the core of her stomach, the dam broke and a shot of pleasure swallowed her quaking body, a struggled sob echoed around them as her walls constricted around his fingers.

Madara watched his future matriarch crumble onto his bed, panting and skin tinged pink from the force of her orgasm. He couldn't help but admire the way her dress hiked itself around her middle, dropping the belt — he loomed over her and crawled on top of her.

In the haze of her orgasm, Sakura stared up at the man that would soon possess her.

Her hands found their way to his chest, memorizing the dancing tattoos orchestrated across his body. She stopped once she reached his pants, biting her lip — eyes glinting mischievously. When she worked his pants off, her mouth watered at the sight of his engorged cock, large and so entirely _thick_ it sprang free of his pants.

Like sweet velvet in her hand, she worked her hand over him, stroking it with her nimble fingers.

The low, primitive growl now that he caged his prey sent her body reeling. A brazen — unfamiliar voice tightened her throat as she worked his cock in her hand, "…I want you to fuck me."

His eyes glossed over.

Kicking off his pants, he captured her lips in another searing kiss while his hands found hers, dragging them above her head so he could grasp both of her wrists in a strong grip. Her legs opened, canting her hips to meet his as her toned legs wrapped around his waist.

So close.

Madara breathed in the scent of her arousal.

Lavender and cherry blossoms.

With his free hand, he lifted himself to get a view of this woman so open and _inviting_.

The man to let her go was a fucking fool.

Jealousy crept through him.

He would mark her and make her _his_.

She would remember _his_ name preying on her lips.

"You're fucking breathtaking," he drawled.

Sakura flushed, staring into the obsidian sea of his husky eyes — face twisting into a small smile.

Madara slicked himself between her thighs, moving against her clit, _teasing_ her.

Her body jolted, squirming beneath his powerful hands that trapped her, " _please_ ," she breathed, arching off the bed to garner more friction.

Unable to deny them both any longer, Madara situated himself at her entrance. He thrust his hips forward, sheathing himself in her dripping cunt and _fuck_ she was so wet. Sakura closed her eyes, rooted by his body atop hers and she felt so _full_ with him inside of her. She bit her lip to stop the sob that threatened to choke her, but he only gave her a few seconds to adjust before he left her, only to thrust forward once more, snapping his hips and filling her to the brim.

The Uchiha continued his treacherous pace, enough to temporarily satisfy — but not enough to stop the wild heat that licked at their loins.

He leaned forward, sucking at her neck, their bodies joined by the roll of their hips.

Sakura arched off the bed, and with his free hand he reached between them to drag her dress strap off her shoulder, spilling her breasts. The cool air hardened her pink nipples as she moaned, lifting her hips so he could hit her further, "ungh - _yes_!"

He left harsh marks at the base of her neck, sucking on the pretty skin, biting just below the belt still wrapped around her neck. He was losing himself, losing himself to the hellfire kitten beneath him — Madara resisted the urge to fuck her senselessly, he wanted to draw this out.

Until their eyes met, and the way she looked at him, eyes trusting and glossed with undiluted pleasure — he broke.

The normally reserved male hitched his arms beneath her thighs and tilted her hips upwards, fucking her.

Sakura cried out, losing herself as the sound of their skin slapping echoed in the fading light of the day, " _ah_!"

He set a maddening pace, hitting the hilt of her, heightening her body, matching the crescendo of her cries. Madara grabbed the belt, tightening it — as he peppered her chin with sloppy kisses, " _fuckkk_ ," he growled.

She was going to cum.

Sakura could feel her body slowly tightening, her legs started to constrict, her toes curled around him and weakly she grasped onto him — nails leaving sore half moons into the decorated skin on his shoulders, " _M-Madara_!" she choked, the restriction of air causing her toes to curl, lost in the way he orchestrated her body.

The male continued his assault, the tip of his cock hitting her caves, her velvet walls were beginning to quiver desperately, "that's it baby," he breathed into her ear.

In a fine moment — she shattered beneath him.

Her body sprung to life with the precipice of her orgasm, and he suffocated her in a dominating kiss as she sobbed into his lips — the weight of him and the intensity of her orgasm leaked tears from her eyes.

It jolted her limbs, and he didn't _stop._

Blank spots filtered in her vision, the pleasure of her orgasm strangled his cock, her walls contracting around him, nearly dragging an eruptive groan from his throat. He kept thrusting, her vision blurred with edges of white, forcing her orgasm to roll waves of pleasure through her core.

Madara pulled himself from within her, letting her go to flip her over, "bend over."

She couldn't think, let alone understand what he was trying to do until she felt him enter her again from behind, posing her hips up with the arch of her back.

Madara gripped the back of her hair, fisting his hand in her soft locks and stuffed her face into the bed as he arched her back and met her ass with his hips, burying himself once again into her eager cunt.

The sensitized woman cried into the sheets, gripping them to stabilize her body as he ravaged her.

"Madara!" she sobbed, his name a sudden mantra on her lips. He relished in the feel of how fucking _amazing_ she felt, and he leaned forward to bite her shoulder, _claiming_ her and leaving wet kisses on her shoulder blade.

Muffled by the bed, Sakura knew they were both close.

The Uchiha waited.

Sharp, sinuous sounds of their union echoed around them.

Sakura came again, her abdomen coiling and splinting as her touched the spot deep within her that had her reeling, crying into the sheets as her legs constricted and her walls wrapped around him — dragging his orgasm. He finished, hard and loud — a primal roar erupted from his chest as he came, filling her with his cum. Her body readily drank it, and _fuck_ her cunt sucked him like a vice.

He kept thrusting, his cock pulsated and twitched within her, spilling himself until she was limp on the bed, unable to support herself. Madara finished, the throb of his length softened until it ebbed away, bringing them closer. 

They both fell atop one another, sweaty and in the after glow of their orgasms.

He kept her trapped between his arms, kissing her shoulder as she recovered, " _shh_ , good girl."

Sakura sleepily sunk into the bed, resting her shoulder against his upper arm, breasts heaving to catch her breath.

Madara worked to remove the belt from her neck and slid it off. He lifted himself, pulling his length out to see his cum leaking out of her, her body a sweet tint of pink and the small bite of her lip — he was a man lost. Laying himself down beside her, he pulled her close, sucked into her inviting warmth.

Sakura shifted herself to throw her legs over his middle once the enticing tool was thrown off the bed. Guiding her fingers gently over the expanse of his skin, the young doctor blushed, unable to believe she just did _that_.

The man beneath her thrummed his fingers through the softness of her hair, a thick arm slung around her smaller frame. Gently, he placed a kiss on her forehead, closing his eyes to revel in the presence of this infuriatingly beautiful woman.

Sakura hummed in response, a giddy smile on her face as she tucked her face into the curve of his neck, absorbing the scent that belonged entirely to him of oak and cedar.

She stifled the urge to yawn.

The comfort and safety she felt relaxed her muscles.

It was Madara bristling beneath her, running circles into her hip that caused her body to stir.

His dark, hushed whisper deep with reignited arousal shook her, "…you think I'm done with you already?"

xox

By the time morning rolled around, Sakura's body was _sore._

The warmth stemming from behind her came from the large body strewn over her like a furnace — capturing her around her middle. With a small smile, Sakura leaned into Madara's embrace, her small movement caused him to stir and pull her closer, mumbling something incoherently into her hair.

A tiny, embarrassed flush lifted to her cheeks as she realized the night had been spent memorizing each other's bodies.

Then remembering _exactly_ what he did to her body had her heart slowly stammering in her chest.

Shifting herself to face him better — she threw her leg over his own, nuzzling herself into his shoulder. Her active mind that started at the early morning hours took the time to notice the tattoos intricately scattered across his torso. In the peaking morning light, the contrasting colors and designs fascinated her — wondering exactly what they meant.

She made it a point to ask him about them later.

When nearly an hour shifted by without him stirring and she already traced the ink on his body with her fingers, Sakura carefully detached herself from his body.

Maybe she could make them coffee.

Or cook breakfast.

It was her day off.

Grasping her discarded and severely stretched out dress, she frowned.

_Well this is ruined._

Deciding to instead wear his button up, she padded her way out of his room — wondering how he could sleep so heavily this early in the morning as she took him for an early riser. Then again, not everyone woke up instinctively with the sun like herself.

Navigating her way through the large complex, it didn't take long for her to work her way through his kitchen to start a pot of coffee, the familiar smell lulled her into a new happiness — and she poured herself a cup once it was done, wondering when he would wake.

Within the hour, with a vague sense of enticed curiosity — Sakura mildly snooped around his apartment.

Various pictures detailing his life unfolded the bookmarked story that she managed to step in, and all of the pictures with his family brought a small smile to her face, until she noticed a younger Sasuke in many, if not _all_ of the family pictures — that familiar scowl perpetuating his features.

A dubious sense of guilt clenched Sakura, remembering Sasuke _before_ things changed and how he reserved a simple, warm smile shared for either her or Naruto — something special between only them.

Here she was, in his rida's house — wearing nothing but Madara's loose button up and the scent of their night still clinging onto her.

Her hand ghosted over the area on her stomach that bruised due to Sasuke's temper, and it hardened her resolve, upset with herself that she would even _feel_ any amount of guilt for her actions.

Deciding to stop nosing herself around, she really tried - until her attention was welcomed by a bookshelf pressed into the corner of the living area.

Delighting herself to see Madara's reading preferences, she wasn't surprised by the many textbooks of hard reading that sat on the shelves. Some fiction stood out, but most of it catered to his tastes — practical and knowledgeable in an array of historical and business law books who's spines stared blankly back at her.

The same myths and Japanese folklore legends book sat primly at the top, but between the archived books of dreary texts, an old parchment skillfully wrapped together in a leather-bound cover called out to her.

Magnetically, it breathed her name — urging her to pique her curiosity.

Sparkling eyes narrowed on the book, wondering what he was doing with such an _old_ book, if it could be called that.

Grasping it, the leather felt like it would crumble into a million pieces with so much as a quick movement, and carefully Sakura wiggled it out of the safety of the bookshelf and into her eager hands.

Lips parted in wonder, she grazed her eyes over the front of the book. There was no title, or any insignia, nothing even in relation to the Uchiha, and she found it oddly irritating that this one fixture was eliciting her curiosity.

The parchment felt delicate in her hand, crinkled and curled at the tips from years of wear, the scribbled kanji faded in a language that she didn't quite understand. Brows furrowing in confusion — an odd, perturbed sense of familiarity clung to her.

The same feeling that ignited confusion when Madara first hugged her.

The same coalesced air that sparked whenever she had _those_ dreams.

Her fingers skimmed over the kanji, heart beginning to quicken in her throat.

She flipped the page, lost in trying to transcribe the mysterious text.

An odd hastiness gripped her, urging her to find _something_ she wasn't sure was there.

The pages called to her, imploring her to keep going.

Briskly, she sat herself down on the couch, a captive to this book.

It was halfway through flipping through the frail parchment that she stopped.

There, hastily drawn in a scribble but completely identical to her own — was a signature.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Why was _her_ signature in this journal?

xox

_Kyoto, Japan  
Sasuke Uchiha's Home_

Itachi flipped through old hospital documents on Sasuke's dinner table, the brotherly duo having spent the last half hour of their free afternoon without duties delegating to the clan to methodically scan through the reports on their parent's death.

Sasuke could see something was off with his brother.

"You're hiding something," the younger brother accused, eyes glinting at the stoic faced Uchiha.

It wasn't in him to lie to Sasuke.

In this fragile recovery time — Itachi noticed the empty bottles that hung around the counter, including the drink that Sasuke harbored on the table next to him. It would take time for them to rebuild their relationship, Itachi _knew_ that — but telling him about what he witnessed between Madara and Sakura wouldn't help.

He set down the pencil, thrumming his fingers on the desk, "it's not important."

"It obviously is if you're avoiding telling me."

Itachi took a swig of his own drink, laboring in the burn down his throat, "have you talked to Sakura recently?"

Sasuke paused, "no…I'm giving her time to herself right now," he admitted, unabashed.

"Hn," was all the older brother could manage, tactfully deciding his words that wouldn't lead to his brother storming through the door.

"What is it?" came his cold voice, guarded in anything mentioning his ex-fiancé.

Might as well get this over with.

"I saw her and Madara earlier at the lounge…She was upset over something," he explained cordially, voice disguising the severity of their fight.

At this, Sasuke visibly perked, straightening himself in his seat, "what happened?"

Itachi could see the flicker of recognition in his brother, ever the predictable boy — "about a picture. Though I have a feeling you know what it's about."

Sasuke feigned disinterest, scowling to himself, "I'm showing her that he's not the saint that he portrays himself to be. I don't want her falling for his lies."

"Do you think Sakura isn't capable of handling herself?" Itachi pointed out.

The sore memories broke the momentum of their conversation, causing Sasuke to pause and _think_ about the question, "….I do."

"Don't lie."

"I'm _not_. Sakura is a strong woman…She always has been," the younger Uchiha recognized, "—I don't trust _him_."

The truth laid itself on the table.

They were _looking_ for evidence against their own rida.

To end his era of power that lorded itself over them.

This would tear apart their clan.

Itachi knew the repercussions of what they were doing, and was prepared for the spiral.

Both brothers sat in a comfortable, knowing silence.

"You shouldn't," Itachi agreed, "…but as a piece of advice brother. If you have any idea about getting back together with Sakura, I would work quickly. Only a woman with feelings would get upset about a man doting attention to other women."

The realization dawned on Sasuke, hardly recognizing the unusual mouthful of advice that Itachi offered him.

"Do you think…?"

With the exhibit from earlier, Itachi's silence confirmed the broken question.

Sasuke stood up abruptly, "I have to go see her."

The mad dash for Sasuke to collect his things and a jacket was rather humorous, it brought back memories of when they were younger and he would try and collect everything he would need for their outings in record time before Shisui and himself left.

With a rushed goodbye, Sasuke nearly bolted out of the front door — only to barely skirt himself to a stop before he bumped into Izuna and Shisui at the door, whiskey bottles and wide smiles on their face, "where the hell are you heading off to?" Izuna prodded, both men inviting themselves in.

Sasuke froze, and Itachi scrambled to quickly push away all of the documents spread across the table meant to indict their family member. His brother tried to stall them at the door, but they kicked off their shoes and made their way to the kitchen — only to stop and survey the scattered paperwork.

Ever the observant one, Shisui walked forward — grabbing a fallen paper with the pictures of their parents totaled car, "…what is this?"

Silence stretched between all of them like a sticky web that clung to their skin.

Both of Fugaku's sons stayed quiet.

After a few minutes, Izuna grabbed a stray paper off of the table, "…is there a good reason _why_ you have my brother's record casually on the table?"

xox

_Shooting Range  
Downtown Kyoto_

The sound of bullets echoed in the gun range.

It felt heavy in her hand, her grip felt too weak to hold such a dangerous weapon — but a weird rush of adrenaline coursed through her hands with the opportunity to pull the trigger. It still terrified her, but after her lover's hour worth of convincing, she finally relented.

Madara smirked, his chest close behind hers as he guided her hands and fingers to work the equipment, "now take a deep breath — exhale, and pull."

The pinkette listened to the careful instruction, half of her mind focused on the proximity of this man, and the other on the gun. Keeping her shoulders in position, twin pools of emerald concentrated on the target at the end.

He let go, allowing Sakura to handle the weapon.

She inhaled deeply, counting down from three before the _bang!_ echoed after her finger pulled the trigger, the recoil wanted to knick her arm, but she kept herself straight — the noise of the gun subdued by her safety ear plugs.

For the split second that she couldn't manage to keep her eyes open because of the noise, she looked at the paper target at the end — shocked into silence as she noted that she actually _hit it_.

A wide grin spread across her face, "I did it!"

Madara leaned against the adjacent wall, appraising her excitement with a small chuckle, "you did, except maybe this time you can keep your eyes _open_ the entire time."

Her excitement dwindled fractionally, "you _could_ say good job, y'know." _Jerk._

 _"_ Goob job," he complimented easily, onyx eyes smoldering her — Sakura glanced away nervously, remembering their night and the way he worked her body.

They must have shared a similar thought, because Madara caged her against the wall, uncaring to the other people in the stalls next to them. Sakura gulped, glancing up at the clan leader, gun hanging limply at her side until she laid it down on the ridge, still afraid of it.

"Do you know what I want to do to you right now?" he murmured huskily into her ear, moving his hand to rest on her hip, thumb rubbing sinuous circles into the skin exposed.

Sakura parted her lips, red flooding her face as her hands came up to rest on his chest, weakly gripping his loose fitting black shirt, "…I have an idea," she smiled prettily, beaming at his flowering attention.

Anthem of his life, at that moment his phone started ringing.

Sakura couldn't help the giggle that left her, moving onto her tiptoes to catch his lips in a quick kiss, pulling away with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as her fingers played dangerously with the waistband of his pants, "answer it."

He kept her close to the wall and obliged, transfixed on the vixen in front of him "what?" Madara snapped at the caller, "it better be worth it."

The proximity of their bodies allowed Sakura to hear Shisui's voice on the line, "you need to come to Sasuke's house, _now._ "

The urgency in his voice stunted Madara's attention, and he shifted away from Sakura, "why?"

It was then that he pulled away, face contorted into mild confusion as his right hand explained everything to him.

The pinkette stayed rooted to her spot, having heard what Shisui said — dragging her hand up to her chest in worry, "what's going on?"

Madara didn't respond to her, "fine. I'll go right now."

In a weird way, Sakura felt despondent when they said their goodbyes — the guard assigned to watch over her would take her home, and Madara would take a car to the old house she used to live in. It felt like a lifetime ago that she would eagerly look forward to getting home and seeing Sasuke — or wait for him to get home so they could just _hang out_.

The clan leader kissed her long and hard on the lips, the promise to explain everything to her later hanging in the air.

She mutely nodded, watching him leave — sighing to herself softly as he disappeared into the black sedan, pink hair flipping buoyantly in the wind, hating herself that she still worried about the man she had planned to marry.

xox

_Downtown Kyoto  
Sakura's Apartment_

"Don't stare at me like that," Sakura snipped at the leather bound book— finding herself slowly losing her mind as she stared at the offending item.

It wasn't in her to steal.

She wasn't a thief.

Well, now she was.

That morning as she heard Madara waking up — she could hear him in the restroom and used that time to stuff the book into her discarded dress, hoping he wouldn't notice her smuggling it out of his apartment. Too skittish and confused to think of actually asking him about it, she ate at her decision — which piqued him to tell her they should go to the shooting range.

With the placated silence of her apartment to guide her, she took the book out of her purse and set it on her kitchen counter, gnawing on her lower lip and pacing back and fourth — unsure if she wanted to look further into the crumbling pages.

Spellbound, it compelled her forward.

Sitting herself in front of the journal, she flipped through the pages — half expecting it to be her delirium from the morning that she might have confused —

"No," she breathlessly murmured.

There, in the entire glory of her familiar signature that she used to sign off patient charts — was the same scribble of her name that she wrote each day, but now displayed in this book that Sakura never laid eyes on until now.

Calming herself, she traced over the signature with a shaky finger.

Yep, it was hers.

Once, she took a calligraphy course in college to fulfill her art requirement (she could stitch together a punctured lung, but couldn't draw to save her life) to avoid painting or drawing, and found that she rather liked it.

Having practiced her signature to perfection in the duration of that class — there was no mistaking the print of her handwriting.

The world was lost on her as she frantically searched through the rest of the book, lost in the unfamiliar language that she couldn't decipher.

Until she came to the last page.

In calligraphy that Sakura had adamantly created as her final — subsequently leading to her small obsession with perfecting her new, although simplistic text, was half a page filled with her work.

" _What…_ " Sakura gasped.

The world faded as a dull background noise and the edges of her vision narrowed.

_I don't have time to write much, but if you're reading this — there's still a chance to save us._

_Everything written here is important for both of our lives. I came back once, and you probably will too if the Great War doesn't end. Go to the library and look up the past languages in the Kyoto region in the Feudal era to understand the text— You have to do this, it details our past life and is the only marker of our history._

_I know this doesn't make sense, and it's scary — but please follow these instructions. Our other that we have seen in our dreams is real, your dreams are real, we won't remember this — and maybe this will never reach you, but only we can help our past self to stop the war._

**_Do not_ ** _let anyone read this book!_

_As insurance for you to believe me, delete the nude photos you took for Sasuke on the desktop — you'll thank me later._

_I wish there was more I could write, but I'm being pulled back._

In half scribbled writing that was barely legible, one final note presented itself.

_You love Madara. You always have._

_xox_

_Sasuke Uchiha's Home  
4th District_

In the waning light of the evening, four men stood at a stand still in the normally quiet home of it's youngest member. Madara leaned against the kitchen counter, eyeing the paperwork on the table sharply, halfway amused by the way Sasuke fidgeted after having been caught.

"This needs to be settled _now_. We're opening the ports, we have the trade routes with the Colombians that needs to be finished, and the fourth district project still isn't completed until we have the investors coming from the states. We're _brothers_ , by blood we have _all_ made vows to one another, as did our ancestors." Shisui, the most peaceful and docile of the Uchiha men finished, attempting to reign the mighty attitudes of the people he grew up with.

It wasn't like him to sound grave, and very rarely did he harden his voice, but his face was twisted disdainfully trying to diffuse the situation.

Izuna faithfully stood beside his older brother, carefully watching his cousins.

"I don't think it's me that has to be reminded of their vows. Though it's easy to forget the ink on your back, isn't it Sasuke?" Madara reminded him, "it's even easier to forget who took care of you when Itachi left," he paused, causing Sasuke to tear his gaze away, "— but I'll say it's rather insulting that the _idea_ of me killing my aunt and uncle is even plausible."

And there it was.

Itachi took a sidestep in front of Sasuke, "their accident happened right after the vote. The same decision that would put _you_ in power, is it not a coincidence they both died in a car accident two days after?"

The two cousins faced off, as they had since their birth.

"I hate to speak ill of the dead, and especially of my favorite uncle —- but that vote was decided by the _council._ Fugaku not only lost the vote, but also relented his position to take over as clan head when my father decided to retire. There's not any motive for me to _kill_ my beloved family members. I had nothing to do with their car accident," Madara explained evenly — straightening himself as he towered over his brothers.

Sasuke remained mute, the touchy subject of his parents death left him raw and sore.

An odd silence perpetuated the air around them, gripping them by it's talons and threatening to disband the close knit group.

"That drunk driver did this to you two, not me. If either of you knew anything at all, you would know I considered Mikoto and Fugaku as my second parents. Seeing as my mother moved back with her family when I was young and my father was always busy handling clan proceedings — I spent most of my time with your parents. I wouldn't expect Sasuke to remember this, but Itachi knows better," within his little speech, both Itachi and Sasuke dropped their guard — quilted under the woven fabric of the truth.

Izuna grunted, disappointed with the situation, "this is pathetic. My brother gave Itachi the opportunity to run to the states, no questions asked — and brought in Sasuke as a high ranking official upon his invitation after opening the fourth district, and you really think he would fuck over our family like that?" he spewed vehemently.

All the clansmen stayed resolute, until Madara glossed over the papers, "find anything worth your time?" he asked sarcastically.

"No," Sasuke replied eventually, a sparred glance with Itachi, and the two finally relented, "…we—"

"I don't want to hear it," the clan leader snapped, shoving the papers off the table — his temper flaring, " _everything_ I do is for the sake of the clan. Every _person_ , grateful or not — is under _my_ protection. You want to know the truth about our parents?" he threatened, causing Itachi to shift forward.

"Don't," he warned.

Madara snickered, pushing himself from the table with a hard sneer, "why? Because your father was fucking my mother? Or is it because that ruins all credibility of you finding a motivation for me to ruin our clan?"

The tensity in the room peaked, and Sasuke shoved his brother for an explanation, "what is he talking about?"

Normally stoic faced under pressurized situations, this would be the first time Itachi hesitated.

"…When we were younger, we caught father and…Marise in bed together," he explained calmly, "it ended a year before the accident."

"It's also the reason my father decided to retire early," Madara interjected, having calmed himself down — he decided to open a whiskey bottle and pour himself a glass, "but our parents decided to keep it a secret and selflessly prioritized the interest of the clan before themselves."

Sasuke shook his head, refusing to hear the truth, "you're lying."

"Am I?" Madara murmured, "you can easily jump to the conclusion that I would murder my aunt and uncle, but won't believe our parents were as perfect as they presented themselves?"

The news came as no surprise to the older cousins, leaving Sasuke floundering for an answer.

There wasn't one to give.

Their fearless leader handed each male a glass.

Warm whiskey was never good, but it was the same tactic his father used when issues arose among his men.

Shisui sighed, scratching his head as Madara passed him a glass of whiskey, "this needs to be settled now—"

"What does that have to do with their accident?" Sasuke cut in, coal eyes simmering, searching and _pleading_ for clarity.

Madara handed the youngest Uchiha a glass who hesitantly looked at the item, but finally grasped it. "Everyone, drink," he commanded. His dark haired brothers hesitated only for a moment, reluctantly drinking the hard liquor.

"My father told me that the night of their accident had been the end of the affair," Madara resigned himself to the facts, "Mikoto and Fugaku had been arguing and didn't see the car," their rida leaned forward, exposing his neck, "-it's something I was sworn to keep to myself, but seeing as you two don't have any faith in me, you deserve to know."

They say the truth hurts.

This news came as a hard hit to the two brothers.

Itachi kept to himself, destined to be a bearer of the weight within himself.

Sasuke was reactive.

Two contrasting personalities.

At the dawn of the truth, Sasuke skimmed his eyes over the reddish purple mark at the base of Madara's neck.

_Sakura..._

His fingers clenched at his side as he began to shake.

Shisui could see the bomb about to detonate.

"Sasuke — don't!"

The youngest Uchiha connected his fist with Madara's jaw, sending their leader flying from his seat and onto the floor.

The taste of blood sparked a fire within the long haired Uchiha.

"You fucked my fiancé, didn't you?" Sasuke muttered darkly.

Madara lit up, blood coating his teeth.

The crazed leader replied with a sarcastic, "she tastes _wonderful_."

Before anyone could stop it, Sasuke jumped over the table and launched himself atop Madara.

A clash of fists sprawled itself in the kitchen.

Madara snapped his elbow forward, hitting Sasuke in the chin and sending him reeling backwards, hitting his head on the edge of the table.

Two animals tore at each other.

The bulkier male twisted them, the raw force of his adrenaline allowing Madara to restrain Sasuke and punch him once, twice — until his knuckles were bloodied.

Sasuke spit the blood in his face, refusing to yield.

Itachi lunged forward to grab Madara, but Izuna held him back, restraining his arms "let them finish this!"

A side arm to Madara's ribcage forced him off, and Sasuke wrenched himself from his bottom position, "you did all of this!" Sasuke seethed, standing himself up on shaky legs. Madara didn't waste time, the two hurled themselves into the dining room, crashing through the furniture. Sasuke gripped his clan leader's hair and smashed his face into the table — but reacted too slowly as Madara kicked him back, knocking him into the wall.

Gripping him by his throat, the two stared at each other as Sasuke tried to free himself.

What the remaining three members didn't expect was for Madara to laugh.

A loud, deep cackle that chilled them.

Few men were as skillfully dangerous as Madara.

Struggling to breathe, he waited until Sasuke was red in the face to let him go — tapping his arm to finally relent.

An hour later, with ice packs pressed to their bruised skin — the two men shared a glass together.

"I love her," one of them muttered.

"As do I," the other agreed.

"Then what?"

"She's not a possession, Sasuke. Learn that — and it's a fair man's game."

The slight pause in their discussion wrenched Sasuke's attention to Madara's penetrating eyes.

"But if you try and sabotage Sakura and I again, I _will_ ruin you."

Sasuke found his answer in the form of a promising threat.

The other men tied by blood and family sat around the fire outside, watching the papers burn in the fire pit, the light of the flame warming their skin in the cooling night air.

Shisui glanced at Itachi, "is it done?"

The questioned presented itself to Itachi, and perhaps it was settled.

He could remember his father harping about how the clan took precedent over everything.

There was no motive.

They were grasping at straws in an attempt to dissuade themselves that their parents death was something else.

With a spare look to his best friend, all he could do was nod his head.

But putting a band aid over the grievances of their clan wouldn't fix anything.

It would only stall the inevitable.

  


	19. Red String of Fate pt. 1

_Past, pt 10_

* * *

 

_Feudal Japan  
_ _Uchiha Stronghold_

This is her opportunity.

Her opportunity to extradite her lover's freedom.

Her petite hand fits in his own, and she can't help but think about what his hands have been capable of. Of killing men, of pleasuring her, of commanding armies, of holding her hand as he proposes to her.

The wind circles around the fated duo.

A ghost of their past will always capture them, and Sakura decides the path of _her_ future.

_I control fate_.

"I will marry you upon the release of Tobirama Senju," she states definitively, barring her emotions under a steel plate.

To her surprise, Madara offers her a knowing look, one registered in his archives of always, _always_ being ahead of her. He takes the time to pause, expecting this ultimatum, "as you wish," he replies evenly.

Her kimono flitters in the wind, and _still_ this man's voice holds an authority over her that she wants to retaliate against. It's isn't fair, and she curses herself for the goosebumps that haunt her skin.

Madara secures her hand, fitting it with…

The young woman nearly chokes as he places his mother's ring on her finger.

Her free hand covers her mouth in silent recognition, eyes glimmering in disbelief that he would give _her_ such a prestigious gift.

"N-no, I couldn't possibly."

The ring glides onto her finger, as if it were cut for her hand, and it sits proudly on the appendage, accented onyx gems fit into the band. Sakura stands there in disbelief, losing control over the situation. It kills her. This was a family heirloom, and he was carelessly offering her something that should _mean_ something to the woman it was meant for.

Madara rises, towering over her, hand still placed generously in his large palm, "I vow on this day forth to do everything in my power to make you happy. I'm a man condemnable of many sins, and my greatest regret is the way I treated you. You are _mine_ , as I'm yours. You will be the blood of my blood, the matriarch of my clan, and the future bearer of our children."

The world begins to spin at the declaration of her decision.

He drags her hand to his mouth, and the young woman can't ignore the undertones in the blank spots of his confession. His soft lips gingerly press against the back of her palm, _begging_ for forgiveness.

This is it.

Gravity presses on her chest, threatening to break her resolve.

The lock shatters the bar on her captive emotions.

It's here in the gardens that his dark, inept eyes are unguarded, and for a brief moment she sees the man that she fell in love with. She sees the man that stole her heart, the man that dragged forth a raw happiness from within her on the crux of such a painful memory in her life.

Slowly, Sakura reaches forward — her hand caressing his cheek.

It's this longing touch that he leans into, proud of the ring weighing down her finger.

Possessed by the moment, Sakura wraps her arms around his neck — the cold touch of his armor on her skin edges them further. Their bodies fit together as they did before, sculpted by fate. The wind picks up, as if it were pushing her forward.

Leaning on her tip toes, the young woman kisses the warrior among men.

Soft.

It's soft and filled with yearning, sealing their future.

Their kiss is a story of the future, of two lovers deemed by the hand of fate, of dreams and myths, and of a man and woman that are irreversible to their understanding of a world much too big for either of them.

He grips her closer to him, beguiled by her sheer presence.

Sakura collects this memory for herself, selfishly saving it.

Their kiss is innocent and sweet and leaves them both gasping for breath by the time he pulls away, her lips are plump and raw from the reverence of his lips.

He categorizes the exquisite curves of her face, memorizing her in the colors of his clan pressed against the blooming gardens. She's always been representative of spring, and it makes little sense to Madara how she has devoured him — picture perfect in the array of colors he had planted for her return several moons ago.

There are no words of love spoken.

Sakura closes her eyes and rests her head against his armored chest.

The world fades for a short moment around them.

And she's ok with it.

xox

_Dark Cells_  
_Uchiha Compound_

Tobirama stayed resolute as the dungeon guard dragged a torch into view, lighting his ghoulish face — as were all the similar faces of the damned Uchiha. "On Madara-sama's orders, you're being released, _Senju."_

_No._

Sakura accepted his offer.

As propagated, the man that killed his father would steal the pink light he managed to find in a war torn society that befit him as an instrument. Tobirama lifted his gaze, casting the guard a vehement glare, "…what happened to my brother?"

The guard motioned for him to stand, but he refused.

"Stand, _Senju_ ," the guard commanded once more. Like his namesake — the white leopard growled, a thunderous anger forced him to stand, startling the Uchiha as the Senju towered over him — threatening to spill out of his cage.

" _What_ happened out there?" he gripped the cold steel bars, and the smaller man clenched his jaw, debating whether or not to tell his prisoner.

In one week he lost his brother.

A gut wrenching stab twisted itself in his subconscious - in the brevity of his soul, Tobirama _knew_ his brothers were losing this war. And now he would lose Sakura, forced to leave her here in the hands of a demon set to wed her.

Sickeningly, the guard began to cackle, "Itama lost the war at the bridge — our tactful leader pushed Uzumaki forces through the bridge and we have broken through the west bank. It's been a mighty celebration of the union between Sakura-hime and Madara-sama."

Somewhere between killing this man and the prospect of seeing Sakura again, the white leopard held his temper and waited for the guard to let him go. It would only be a matter of time before he grabbed her and left — and this time he would keep her safe.

The chains on his wrists shackled him to the reality that he probably wouldn't have the opportunity to say goodbye.

They wash him, they offer him a new thin hakama - and the two handmaidens in charge of his care quietly say goodbye to the beast.

Still, he hates the Uchiha.

xox

Truthfully, she wanted to break.

Why is showing strength difficult in the face of adversity?

Why is it even harder when the man you love is being walked through the face of the castle, hundreds of men and women gathered from the surrounding areas to get a glimpse of the famed white leopard — the only man to ever leave the esteemed stronghold alive.

A _Senju_ , no less.

Sakura is standing beside Madara on the balcony, _trying_ to keep a straight face as the men and women scream at him — upset that Tobirama is part of the reason their loved ones are being dragged into this war, the reason why their previous rida was killed. Loyalties lay deep in this world, and as both the west and east have fought in bloody wars for decades — she can see their urge to rip her knight into shreds.

The material of her kimono doesn't stop her hand from involuntarily shaking, she can only dig her fingers into the fine silk to try and stop herself.

An older woman throws a rock, hurdling curses at Tobirama.

The pinkette twitches — the rock hits him on his shoulder, and he whips around like an angry beast, snarling his fangs at the men and women that threatened him. But with his shackles hanging on his wrists — he is nothing more than a wild animal.

Another rock pelts him on his head.

From her spot on the balcony, Sakura takes a step forward, inching herself closer to see — but her betrothed puts a simple hand out, stopping her movement. Madara doesn't look at her, but his aura is dark, _daring_ her to do something idiotic in front of the people that are in his charge.

They're yelling now — giving him a narrow pathway with the guards leading him through the square, further away from her.

Another rock.

The yelling becomes a rolling wave of sound — high pitched and makes her skin crawl.

One man spills from the crowd, surging forward to punch him — but the warrior is fine-tuned and sidesteps. One of the guards uses the butt of his katana to hit the man in the face, yelling at the crowd to let them through.

They're hungry for his _blood_.

This time a woman is crying, blaming him for her son's death — and she grips at his weakened arms, trying stab him — encouraged by the men and women. Sakura's heartbeat is thunder in her ears, her legs are weak beneath the weight of her fear and the decision she made.

It's when the crowd cuts off the guards, surrounding her knight and pushing them forward that she grips Madara's sleeve, _pleading_ with emerald eyes to make them stop, "do something!" she can't stand here and watch as they rip him apart.

It's not his fault.

It's war.

How can they blame _one_ man?

Such hate has been the foundation for these people longer than either of them have been alive. The last decade of relative peace was based on a weak promise between two fortified clans, but it would never take away the men lost to war — dropped on a battle field choking on their own blood as death swept them into it's arms. It would never stop those that had their crops burned and they had to watch as their children starved and the elders gave away their food to save their families.

Peace would never be possible.

Sakura has no power here.

But she refuses to let them harm the one man that never wanted a part of this.

" _Please_!"

It's the quiver in her voice that beckons Madara's response, and he grips her hand — agitated by the sheer empathy that she has for a man he's been raised to hate. It sickens him. Yet he can't find it in him to deny her. It would be easy to let the crowd kill him, it would be one less Senju — the same Senju that killed his father

He traces over her marred face, frantic to save Tobirama — and it unsettles him how deeply he feels for her.

So much that he's willing to let him go.

Madara raises his hand — and like a shadow of a god the rioting crowd goes silent, listening to the commands of the guards settling the angry civilians.

In this moment Sakura realizes the _power_ his clan has over the people.

The path opens once more for Tobirama, and her heart settles momentarily.

Until he looks back up at her.

Their eyes meet.

Sakura chokes on a sob that tries to suffocate her, because she can't do this.

From _here_ she can see the pained expression on his face — as if she betrayed him.

And it kills her.

So she gathers the end of her kimono and turns from the scene, disappearing into the stronghold's large doors — biting back the reality of her decisions. It _hurts_. It hurts so much to know he's leaving, and the last look they shared was filled with a longing that neither would ever get to act on.

In her heart, she says goodbye to Tobirama.

_I saved him._

Those three words keep her motivated long enough until she's in her quarters before she falls to the ground and quietly sobs to herself

xox  
_Uchiha Stronghold_

_The world is a clouded haze when he opens his eyes._

_The opiate scent of iron fills his lungs, and he lunges himself to try and sit up — but the wound in his abdomen prohibits his movement._

_Is he dying?_

_Madara blinks back the dreary grip of death — refusing to succumb to a battle he doesn't remember. Slowly, he sits until he's propped against a tree, forcing himself to move. His wound smells foul, clogged by dried blood. Bodies lay around him, but it's the sense of urgency that floods his limbs that terrifies him._

_'_ _Where are they?'_

_'_ _WHERE?'_

_He moves._

_He's bleeding out, but frantically he's searching for_ **_something_ ** _— or someone. Confusion laces itself into his vision, a voice that doesn't belong to him is beckoning him, echoing in a loud whisper — almost yelling at the war lord._

_The sound of a woman screaming beckons him further, and he can only manage to hold his side and feebly stumble through the thick woods. It's raining now, his hair clings to his skin in soppy strands, the dark tendrils threaten to choke him into submission — but when he stumbles on the scene against a backwash of rolling grey sky, his stomach drops._

_Madara drops to his knees, an endless sea of thick grey clouds converges — and in the middle Sakura slowly looks back at him, an arrow is lodged in her heart, and feebly she reaches forward._

_"_ _Ana…ta," the words croak in her throat — but he can't move._

_WHY won't his legs move?_

_Tears stain her cheeks, and like a feral monster he struggles against the magnetic force that holds him back as he's forced to watch his wife die alone._

_"_ _SAKURA!"_

_He's a silent voice in this fading world of color._

_Behind her, two children lay motionless beside their mother._

_Black and red bleed into his vision._

Madara wakes up drenched in his own sweat.

Unable to sleep, the lithe male stomps his way through the winding halls with nothing but a pair of loose fitting hakamas, most of the stronghold is asleep by now. He has to see her. In a panic, Madara rushes to Sakura's quarters — although he felt inclined to have her close by, he opted to give her room in the time it would take for their wedding ceremony.

As he opens the door, he can sense the soothing atmosphere of her scent upon entering.

"Sakura!" terror seizes his voice.

The rush of sound into her room rustles the young woman awake, in a clear daze she looks at Madara — half asleep she blinks prettily at him, "Madara-sama?" she muses, careful to lift herself, unaware that her slip revealed the expanse of her teasing skin.

The sight of her alive and well instantly calmed the raging clan leader.

Like his mother used to, Sakura can sense the fear in his demeanor, and although she's still half asleep, she tilts her head in worry, "are you ok?"

He gulps, and with a deep heave, Madara shakes his head, sputtering to explain himself, "I…It's nothing — sorry for waking you, Sakura."Before she can ask anymore questions, he leaves to return to his quarters, disgruntled with himself for falling into the antics of a wild dream. The clarity of it all still left him unsettled, but the sight of her dying… _Terrified_ him.

Sleep doesn't welcome him that night.

xox

_Cliff's Edge_

Sakura can scarcely remember the times when she didn't feel heartache.

Somehow that morning she woke up after being awakened by her fiancé late in the night and felt the need to walk. In a simple red kimono, she grabbed her shawl and waited for the sliver of the sun to peak over the mountains before she left. The memory of Tobirama leaving kept her legs moving, there was too much on her mind. Too much that just occurred.

With no particular destination, she just wanted to leave the castle.

And so she continued to walk after making one final stop.

As the looming castle shrank in the distance, she got lost in the neighboring woods, but simply continued. The cool morning air chilled her skin, but she felt immune to all physicality's as her mind continued to race.

Before she knew it, Sakura reached a cliff's edge that dropped into a beautiful lake with crystal waters.

It was there that she took off her slippers and dropped her shawl, allowing the wind to lick her skin. Closing emerald eyes to simply _feel_ — the wind begins to burn her cheeks, and part of her knows she can take one step forward, to taste the sensation of free falling.

The rocks at the bottom would embrace her.

It would be a sure death.

The desire to cry left her in the throws of her knight leaving the day prior.

It was for the best, but now she felt numb.

Could she do this?

Her foot nudges her further, another inch and her balance starts to loom forward on the cliff's edge.

One step would do it.

_DON'T._

It's that voice again.

Sakura growls at herself and opens her eyes — taking a few steps back from the ledge, disappointed with herself for hosting such an idea. She was stronger than that. There were lives at stake, lives that she could _help._ Who was she to leave her father? Who was she to give up?

It's the strong hand that grips her arm and spins her around that startles her.

"Kami, I missed you," he breathes into her hair, spinning her once in his arms.

The voice of her knight pulls a blanket of security over her shoulders.

Sakura grips the strong arms, and without the steel bars standing between them, she can get a glimpse of his face clearly — something she had been deprived of for months, "Tobi!" she murmurs into his embrace, burrowing herself deeper into this man.

He doesn't ask her why she's here, and they take the time to appreciate this savored moment.

Tobirama smiles into her hair, the back of his hand threading through the soft locks, "…I waited for you," he admits, "I couldn't leave without you."

Sakura pulls away fractionally, "how did you know I would come here?"

"Because you always come to the water's edge."

The memory of their time spent together at the waterfall by his family's estate draws a large smile on her face, "sharp as ever, Senju." To attest to this, she brings her wrist into view to parade the beaded bracelet, and he pulls the pink ribbon from inside his hakama — and together they made quite the pair standing at the cliff's edge sharing their artifacts.

Tobirama can't find the correct words, but he understands the need to pull her away from this vile region, they're still too close to Madara, "we have to leave now."

She refuses to move and lets her hands drop to her sides, "…I can't."

The air sours.

"Why?" he questions gravely, his sharp eyes construing her plan.

"Because I'm betrothed to Madara," the words are rotten on her lips, and she hates to openly admit this to Tobirama, "it was the condition for your freedom."

_Please understand._

Although he already knows, a rupture of jealousy wrapped in fine cased protection flares around him, "you merely _accepted_ , it's your own volition to leave — and I _refuse_ to leave the west without you," her knight announces, gripping her arm.

Sakura shakes her head, "there's more to this than you think, Tobi! My father has been declared the sovereign son to the other half of the Uzumaki — and they already have ties with Madara, my marriage is the allegiance to both clans."

It's this that causes him to drop her hand and narrows his eyes, "so you'd rather side with the Uchiha?"

The ice in his voice chills her skin, "no! But I can do something to stop this war!"

"This war is beyond us. It's beyond my brother and Madara, it's beyond the clan! It's a century of fighting, it's something ingrained into the people's lives in this country — and it won't end. Not until one clan falls," Tobirama curses under his breath, upset with the circumstances of their fate.

Both are vying for an understanding that neither will ever get.

"It's not! Everything has an end. Just because you have been raised to hate the Uchiha doesn't mean that there are others that want the fighting to stop! I don't care if I come from a small village — I don't care if I was bought as a whore! I don't care if the men and women hate me because of my past, I _know_ I can save the lives of others if given the chance," Sakura exerts, fiery eyes lit with a consuming plea for him to believe her.

Tobirama witnessed too much.

Too much death.

His father and brother's.

And now Itama.

He knew death in it's entirety, and tomorrow it could be Hashirama if the Uchiha and Uzumaki reach further into the west.

He ignores her.

"Come, we're leaving now — I can't waste anymore time."

Sakura is as stiff as a wall, jaded by his attitude, "I told you that I _can't,_ won't you listen to me?"

"Why? Do you want to stay with the man that bought you and disillusioned you into thinking he was in love with you? Or need I remind you that he cast you aside until I saved you from him?" his eyes are blazing, and truthfully Sakura never thought she would see this side of him.

Her wild snow leopard.

In her heart she understands his pain.

Instead of getting angry with him, Sakura purses her lips — she knows he just lost his brother, and the war gained exponentially in the Uchiha's favor, he wasn't upset with her — he was upset with fate.

As she was.

In the light of day the young princess leans on her toes to close the distance between them and kisses him. Sakura's body presses against his in a flurry of silk and warmth, and before he can object, the snow leopard caves. Their bodies mesh against one another, the heat of her lips on his is enough to push him over the edge.

What they were both afraid to act on before dissolves in a fine mist of sweetly savored emotion.

Tobirama carefully pulls her to the ground, shuddering when the slip of her kimono falls just above her breasts, leaving her to hold up the material, "you're…kami," he swoons, the lilac of her innocent demeanor contrasts against the woman that berated him into giving her a job as a medic, further enticing him.

Sakura blushes, dodging her eyes elsewhere — she's sure the hue of pink on her cheeks is kin to her hair by now, "what?" she murmurs self-consciously, abashed by his staring.

"You manage to beguile, infuriate me, and amaze me within seconds — I fear there is no other like you, Sakura," Tobirama says, he pulls her carefully onto his lap. In the rising horizon over the cliff's edge, their bodies ache for the touch of one another.

"I love you," he wholly admits, jaw clenched — waiting for her response.

_No._

_I can't do this._

The pinkette loves him — loves all that he did for her, loves him for _him._ The stoic Senju brother with a riveting way of thinking — Sakura kissed his cheek softly, and slowly she trails another kiss to his chin, and then his lips.

"I love you, too," Sakura presses, her fingers work into the thin cloth of his hakama — wanting to give them this moment.

It's foolish.

Surely by now Madara had men looking for her, and if they got caught it would mean his death. But the warm air of spring broke through the chill — and his skin is taut beneath her fingers, rising with goosebumps behind the path of her fingers. She ignores the alarm screaming at her to stop.

Tobirama watched her, his cerise colored eyes memorize the gentleness of her touch — how she bites her lip as she draws the material off of his shoulders, her fascination lies in the scars scattered across his torso, and he promises to himself one day he will tell her all of them, because he can see the questions flickering in her gaze.

She stops at the band of his waist, the months of imprisonment have left him malnourished — but his body is still strong, resilient as he is. Tobirama lulls her into another kiss, his hands make quick work of her kimono, undoing her obi to allow her kimono to open, leaving her bare in front of him.

He's decided she tastes like berries, and he takes the time to appreciate her body.

The smooth curve of her pert breasts are complimented by hardened, pink nipples, and he sets himself over her, pulling her to the ground. Their lips meet in a searing, open mouthed kiss. Sakura arches off the cool grass, making quick work to pull his hakama off.

Tobirama's length hardens against her thigh — long and thick once it's released from imprisonment, Sakura bites her lip, anticipation igniting her skin. A new warmth seeps between her thighs when he bites her lip and possessively growls, "I can never leave you," he says breathily, eyes steady with hers.

The young woman silences him with her lips, searching the cave of his mouth. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him to her core. They test each other with a roll of his hips, causing Sakura to arch off the ground.

He's no stranger to the pleasures of a woman, and he flexes his hips again — her kimono is hiked around her hips, her wetness makes him hiss as his cock is painfully engorged, and he rhythmically begins to rock against her, teasing them both as her wetness slicks his head.

Memorizing her body, Tobirama nips at her lips once more, fascinated with the soft mewls that leave her. He wants her, he wants her more than life itself and the thought of making love to her here makes his cock leak with pre-cum.

The knight draws his hand to her modest breast, rolling her nipple expertly beneath the pad of his thumb. Sakura whimpered, _knowing_ that her decision would only hurt him.

It would hurt them both.

Her mind begins to go blank when he pops a nipple into his mouth, generously sucking on her hardened tip. Her hands get lost in his unruly hair, gripping him tighter as their frenzied movements edge them further.

Tobirama groaned low in his throat, thoroughly amazed by this woman beneath him. Suckling on her breast, he scrapes his teeth against her nipple, tugging gently to elicit a generous moan.

"Tobi!" Sakura careened, biting her lip to stop herself from being too loud.

He grinned to himself, capturing her gaze — and like the leopard she knew, he pinned her to the ground, cerise eyes glazed with arousal.

It's so _primal._

Sakura can't take it any longer.

The muscles on his shoulders tense as he angles his hips back, stealing a bruising kiss that leaves them breathless.

Yet, she wants to give him something special.

Mischievously, Sakura twisted their bodies before he can sink himself into her, taking control.

Naked atop him, the sun gleamed down on her creamy shoulders, highlighting her pert breasts and wild pink locks. Her kimoni is billowed around the creak of her arms, and she straddled his thighs with her own, smirking to herself when the look of surprise crossed his straight features.

Biting her lip, the former concubine pressed a kiss to his chest, peppering kisses down his torso until she reached the silver hair framing his cock. Her eyes hold his own, and Tobirama is captivated.

Slow at first, Sakura licked his head.

"Sak-!"

Expertly, Sakura takes him into her mouth, enamored by his reaction. He's long, long and completely hard that she struggles to fit him in her small mouth, but she takes the size of him until he's in the back of her throat.

Tobirama grunts, face twisted in pleasure as Sakura sucks.

The unsuspecting male bucks into her mouth, hitting her throat — but she relaxes her jaw and whimpers, her fingers reach between her thighs to play with her clit. Moaning around his length, Sakura works her tongue over his cock, taking him in slow, sensual strokes.

"Fuckk," he groaned, struggling to keep his composure.

Her fingers grip onto his strong thighs, muscled beneath his skin as his hips flex into her mouth, and he looks akin to a statued god sculpted by an artist with his head thrown back. Sakura wants him to lose the clever self-control he's manipulated over his being his whole life.

Sakura pushes his length into her throat until she chokes, taking him in stride — her tongue working his shaft in languid laps.

With her hand, she gripped him softly enough to reach the hilt of his hips — bobbing her head to bring him closer to to the edge.

In the bright light of day, Sakura's mouth works him like no woman has done to him before. He's so close — the warrior lost control, breathily groaning he tangles his hand in her hair and forces her down, bucking his hips into her savory cavern, her tongue is velvet against his cock as he fucks her mouth.

" _Agh_!" a strangled, powerful cry rips from his throat when his hips stutter, and he keeps her mouth at his base, her nose is pressed against the hair of his crotch when he cums. She drinks his seed in steady strides, his body is tight in the throws of his orgasm, beckoning her body to throb headily for him.

Tears grace her eyes when he finishes — his length spurts one last time, the bitter taste is familiar to her and warms her throat, but she pops her lips off his cock with a final lick.

Tobirama can't clearly describe what she just did to him.

He can't think.

The young temptress brazenly sits herself atop his thighs, smiling sinuously as he tries to catch his breath.

It gives her a sense of power, and his thighs finally ease as the glow from his orgasm gives him the motivation to speak.

"You—"

The pinkette leans forward to silence him with a chaste kiss, "shh," she murmurs, "I want you," she presses against his lips.

Tobirama's cock twitches back to life. Blood rushes to his groin and he watches, entranced as the beautiful woman he's desperately fallen in love with drags him further into her grasp. He's hard against her inner thigh, dangerously pressing against her lips.

She kisses his chin, and his hands instantly draw to her pretty hips, grinding her against him.

" _Ah_!" she mewls, the friction added to the collective heat on her sensitive core, Sakura scratches her nails across his chest, muffling her soft moans in his neck.

The treasonous seconds pass by until she can't take it anymore.

Aligning herself with his tip, the pinkette slowly sinks down on his length — her thighs quiver in anticipation, and the rippling pleasure of being filled by him when she hilts herself causes a silent gasp to leave her lips.

Tobi closed his eyes as her body arches, it takes every ounce of his self control not to drive himself into her, his fingers dig into the plush skin on her hips.

He's positive there is a goddess atop him.

Her movements are slow at first as she adjusts to his girth, and when she reaches the plentiful place that forces her toes to curl — Sakura sits herself back so she can angle him, deliberately drawing this out for the both of them.

They're a couple lost to the nature around them, the dirt on their skin, and the sweat building between their bodies.

It's different to be the one in control.

Sakura finds that she likes watching the way his face gloriously twists under each roll of her hips. She loves the way he's slowly slipping into the pleasure her body brings him. Even more, she loves the way he struggles to open his eyes, but when he does the inclination that _she_ is more than any of her previous titles don't matter.

It's only them.

"You're — _fuck_!" the words are lost when she begins to bounce atop of him.

Sakura finds the sweet spot that lights her body and sends ripples of pleasure through her.

Tobirama digs his fingers into her thighs, canting his hips to meet hers, aiding her to lift atop his cock.

"Tobi!" she cries, face twisted in pleasure. Her nails dig into the skin of his thighs until they bruise, but the sweet velvet of her cunt is driving him crazy and he lifts his hips to meet hers until he's filling her completely.

Their bodies work in unison, Sakura's pert breasts bounce as she rides her lover, and _kami_ she can taste her orgasm. He's so thick inside of her with such an intensity that each thrust spirals her further to the abyss.

" _Yes, yes-_!" her orgasm is building, and he reaches between them to rub her clit in time with each shove of his cock.

His balls tighten, he's dangerously close to finishing inside of her — but he stops himself, he needs to get her there before him. Tobirama forces her to bend forward over him, and he seizes the new angle, furiously fucking her until she's quivering.

He sucks on her collar bone, heavy grunts permeate the air and she's brimming on the edge, but it's the bite to her shoulder that draws forth a sharp, delirious cry from the young woman.

Sakura sees white stars when her orgasm hits her, her walls clench around him — tight and sucking his hard length until he hisses, sucking on her tanned skin when his cock spurts hard into her.

Together, they uncoil.

His seed shoots into her when he's hilted entirely, her cunt milks him and the heat of his seed is fire within her abdomen, edging the pulses of her orgasm. Panting, it's only a few seconds of them catching their breath before he's gently kissing her skin where he left a mark.

Sakura smiles to herself, savoring this moment.

Her knight is still hard within her, and a light, innocent wave wrapped around them.

Slowly, he lifted himself to sit — the difference in his demeanor startles her.

Where seconds ago his sharp eyes were glazed with lust — now they're filled with love.

Sakura wraps her legs around his waist, and he's hard within her once more — his seed dribbling down his length, but neither care.

Red and emerald hold their gaze, and she placed her hands on his chest — only to have him grab either side of her face and carefully roll his hips, "I love you," he says, transfixed on Sakura.

Her throat dries.

Closing her eyes to stop the onslaught of tears, she can only kiss him — soft and light, his thrusts are slow —- a daunting contrast to what they just did, but it's so much more.

Each gentle thrust is like a valley of rolling mountains.

Their bodies are sensitized and Sakura lifts herself just as softly, grinding her hips atop him when he moves his hands to her ass, drawing her lithe hips to bring them closer.

They dance on the edge of oblivion, but only one can leap.

"Kami — _ah_!" Sakura sketches her thumbs over the red stripe tattoos on his face, bringing him in for another sensual kiss.

They don't know it, but the world has stopped.

At the cliff's edge, the water is silent.

The clouds stop in mid-formation.

Her yin seal sparked to life.

Purple markings tattoo themselves onto her skin, crossed and jagged — but invisible to the man inside of her.

Sakura can sense it.

Like the precipice of her orgasm, it wants to be all-consuming.

The new sensation frightens her, but Tobirama lures her attention back to him when he nips her lip, tugging on the plump skin.

It's so close.

" _Tobi_!" she pants, and unknowingly tears lift to her eyes. Her hips flex as her thighs contract, and her white leopard grips her close to him, faltering and sucking on the supple skin on her neck.

Together their bodies ripple the end.

Her peak overtakes her, and she cries out — her cry echoes in the broad scenery, Tobirama can do little but hold her as an anchor when his cock pulsates, thick ejaculate pumps into her cavern, drawn by the tightness of her walls.

His seed floods her womb, and it encompasses her orgasm until their both weakly hanging onto each other for stability.

Unable to catch her breath, Sakura melts into his arms.

"I love you, I love you so much," he repeats, resting his glistening forehead against her cheek, weakly his hands hold onto her hips, but Sakura can't speak.

_I control fate._

If she tells him she loves him again, she won't be able to do it.

Before Madara woke her in the morning, she found her mother in her dreams one last time.

_After wondering senselessly in the black darkness jaded by blue orbs, the glass room appeared._

_Still majestic as when her dreams first started, her mother stood in midnight's run, waiting for her._

_Sakura told her everything._

_About her decision to marry Madara, about Tobirama leaving._

_"_ _Unrequited love will always be the detriment to the heart," her mother confirmed, wishing for a better fate for her daughter._

_"_ _Mother….You gave me to Papa so I would have a better life?" Sakura wondered, remembering the days where other families in Kanazawa would retire together, and the mother's would be waiting with bright smiles on their faces._

_It was always her and Papa._

_Jealousy came easy, and on each full moon she would wish on the great ancestors in the sky for her mother to appear one day._

_They must have listened, because her mother answered, "yes, I did." Azule tucked a strand of her daughter's pink hair behind her ear, understanding where this conversation would lead._

_"_ _Do you regret it?"_

_"_ _Of course not."_

_"_ _Why?" Sakura can't help but think of the years she went without a mother, can't help but think of the pain of being alone, "you've been alone for so long…You couldn't come to me, just to say hi?"_

_Azule frowns, "I was always there, whether you knew it or not. Our power is sacred, and thousands of men would kill us for it. That's why they came after me that night. I kept you away from me in the hopes that you would never awaken…This," her mother taps her forehead with her index finger, the purple yin seal flared under the powerful touch._

_Still, she doesn't understand, "what is_ **_this_ ** _? We control time? How! What is this great power that men fear?" her ardent temper revealed itself, "if we've been gifted so divinely then why don't I have any answers on how to control it?"_

_The angelic woman shook her head, her frown deepening, "it's everything, Sakura! It's the energy between two lovers. It's the ocean pushing against the sand, it's the force of a storm. It's life and death._ **_You_ ** _control time. You control fate. There is no instruction. You unknowingly did it before you were raped. Tap into_ **_that_ ** _emotion. Its visceral, and with your fingers that energy will stop the world. The world will feel light. The wind will stop. You can kiss a man's forehead and he will forget everything if you will it."_

_It's the most her mother has ever spoken before, and it leaves the young princess shocked._

_"_ _I stayed away from you because I knew that once your unlocked your power, I wouldn't be able to watch over you any longer, and it would only bring you pain. My power is nearly gone — as I'm now confined to midnight's run. I knew that one day you would have a power greater than I. The power to stop the Great War that is coming. I…Selfishly tried to keep you safe, but I should have known better — there is no stopping fate," she finished, gripping her daughter's hand._

_Sakura hates fate._

_"_ _What is fate?" she whispered._

_"_ _Fate is the only power stronger than us. It's beckoned by a force that grants us our power," Azule wish she had the answer to give her daughter, because then it would explain the years of loneliness._

_For the first time since their meetings began, Sakura let's go of her reservations._

_"_ _How can I control fate if it's stronger than I am?" she questions into the soft silks of her mother's kimono, years of wondering what it would feel like to be held by her mother are finally answered._

_Azule delicately laughs, "because you have the red string tied around you, my sweet."_

_This is their goodbye._

_With all her might, Sakura attempted to hold on to her mother, but Azule let go first._

_"Please don't leave!" the young woman grips onto her mother's hand - trying to ground them here. It's pointless, like a vortex pulling on them - the glass begins to violently shake around them, surfaced by their memories. Azule is crying now, her face accompanied by a sad yet grateful smile, unknowing to Sakura - her mother has one last place to visit before her energy is taken from her._

_Azule can only manage to rub her daughter's cheek one last time, mouthing the simple words of, 'I love you,' before they're torn apart._

" _No!" Sakura can't do this, not again — the glass room cracks and the darkness engulfs the blinking blue lights, leaving her swimming in an endless silence._

_Fear cracks at her shell — and she's left in the blank space of time, alone._

_What calms her is the brimming energy swirling around her, lapping at her skin like the cool shallows of a lake._

_It's unexplainable._

_Hours, or possibly days could have passed before she begins to worry, but it's the deep, familiar sound of her name that wakes her._

Her lids lifted the veil to her subconscious, the sight of Madara greeted her — his face flush with worry, and for a moment she's confused, having just said her goodbye to her mother, and before she can ebb away what just happened, Sakura noticed a red string is drawn around her master.

For a brief moment she forgets their past. All she sees is the anxiety and concern tinging his face, "Madara-sama?"

Coiling around him, the red string is invisible — and silently, like a hungry snake, it slithers around her ankle. The red string of fate tied around her and Madara, issuing the young girl to try and understand the brevity of it.

Although, where she expected to feel fear — the growing hum of her power vibrated around her. It tightens around them, and she can feel the energy stemming from him - it's... _Light_.

And it's in Madara's eyes that she finds solace.

Which is why before she left to find her white knight, she asked Hidan for a final favor in the haze of dawn's light.

In truth, she expected Tobirama to find her.

Sakura made the final decision to leave him.

Which is why it pains her to do this, because their lines of fate are not tied.

Slowly, her lips find his forehead after their union, and in a frequency unknown to her, she remembers her mothers words — " _sleep_ ," she murmurs against hist skin.

The powerful man slips into unconsciousness.

Sakura cradles him to the ground as to not hit his head, and it's in that moment she notices the purple markings on her skin — and the mastery of this strength is beyond her understanding.

Quietly, she lays him on the ground and keeps herself on top of him. Sakura looks around her for an answer to this mystery that has become her life, but the world is silent. The trees are not moving, the blades of grass are stalled in their dance, and the silence is deafening. This sensation tickles, her skin hums - and it takes every ounce of her self-preservation to not crumble on top of him.

xox

Sakura allowed herself the reprieve of crying.

As sleep takes him, the words of her mother play diligently in her heart.

' _You have a power much greater than I._ '

The world is but a vessel, because what can overcome time?

On her knees in front of his sleeping form, her body shook as she decided to give him the ignorance of their time here. She draws her lips to his forehead, _knowing_ the consequence of her actions.

She can make him forget, forget this moment together. She will keep it selfishly to remember, and as her lips settle on his forehead once more — his body twitched unhappily. His silver brows furrowed in confusion and a frown tugs at his lips. Her tears slip onto his cheeks, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sakura apologized profusely, contrasting against the words of love he offered her, and she _hated_ herself for doing this to him.

He jostles once more, trying to refuse her power. Sakura doesn't understand it, but it's like a thin veil that she can orchestrate by strings — it's a magnetic force. A static nature around her that she can control. She can clearly _see_ the energy around her, within him, and a prudence of control fires on her skin.

His body eventually quiets when his breathing stabilizes — even breaths in the deep trenches of his subconscious.

The air around her is deathly quiet.

There is no sound of birds.

The chatter of trees brushing against one another is lost.

The wind stopped.

The world is a hallow shell aside from them.

Sakura's forehead is electric — the source of her power is stemming from her yin seal, and it doesn't frighten her like she once thought it would. Her skin is glowing vibrantly, but she doesn't have the time to look at herself, she doesn't have the energy.

She needs to make him leave without her.

Closing her eyes, Sakura allowed the world to continue.

In a loud flutter, the trees continue their song — the water laps happily at the cliff's edge, and the wind flips her pink hair. Quietly, she runs her fingers against his cheek, saying her final goodbye to the man that she would do everything to keep safe. As much as it pains her, she can't go with him.

She leaves one last binding kiss on his lips, "I love you," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

Within minutes, Hidan emerged from the dense forest atop her mare.

He's blinking back his confusion, watching her naked body lean over her sleeping lover.

"Did you feel that, twerp?" he greeted, paying no mind to her state of dress.

"Feel what?" she responds smoothly, keeping her gaze on Tobirama, trying to burn his face into her mind, her hand runs through the thickness of his hair, admiring the red stripes decorated on his cheeks.

Hidan sighed, deciding to forget the odd sensation before he arrived. More so, he's upset with himself for agreeing to this bullshit, "how far do you want me to take him?"

Sakura stops, pulling her hand away from her knight, "far enough for him to understand he needs to return west without me."

The animatic priest fixes his scythe on his back, moving beside her in a low crouch, "he's going to be pissed."

The pinkette slowly stands, fixing her kimono over her shoulders with an air of dignity, chilling her features to be strong, although internally she wanted to break into a million pieces, "it's what has to happen," she states with finality, "please take him."

As her friend pulls the hakama back onto her lover, Sakura looked away — removing herself from the scene, "I left a bag of coins along the main path leading west, by the large birtchwood tree, please take it for this favor."

Never one to hide what he's thinking, Hidan tuffs and pulled the Senju to stand, holding him up by his shoulder, "I don't understand why you're not fucking leaving."

Sakura grits her teeth, tying her obi around her waist painfully tight, "please, _go,_ " her voice breaks — she's on the verge of crumbling, and the priest understands enough to stop questioning her.

Hidan shrugs and grabs the man, "whatever you say, _Princess_ ," he reminds her, lugging Tobirama over to the horse.

As they're leaving — Sakura watches their receding backs disappear into the woods.

"I'm no princess..." she manages to say - more to herself.

She brings his bracelet close to her heart, unaware of her tears that are steadily falling.

When she can sense that they're gone, it takes her seconds to reach the edge of the cliff and fall to her hands and knees.

Her reserve shatters like fine glass.

Cursing herself and the cruelty of it all — she hates herself for betraying him.

Sakura digs her fingers into the dirt and grass, chest heaving as it threatens to break her.

_I control fate._

_I control fate._

On the cliff's edge — the sound of a broken heart screaming rippled the steady waters on the lake.

xox

_Present Day,_  
_Kyoto, Japan  
_ _Sakura's Apartment_

"According to legend, gods tie an invisible red string around two people — which means they are destined to be lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical string may stretch or tangle, but it may never break," Sakura read the words out loud in the emptiness of her apartment, combing through the various myths throughout the Kyoto region, hoping to find a connection to the journal.

For whatever reason, something drew her to the book that Madara gifted her weeks ago.

Not the one she stole.

Currently, she was still searching for a historian willing to help her decipher the strange text in the journal.

_That_ is unexplainable.

Sakura 'hmphd' to herself, setting down the book — the logical side of her, and the part that took her through the long nights of medical school rebel against myths and legends. It didn't make sense. _None_ of this made sense. Still, she was an opportunist, and optimistic - so who's to say the universe wasn't trying to spell something out for her?

Maybe it's her lack of sleep the last few nights, but clear as day - as if the voice were right next to her, the crisp words echo —

_I control fate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I uploaded the rest of the chapters onto A03 finally, so this story is caught up to FF.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment and let me know what you think, thank you for reading~~


	20. Red String of Fate pt. 2

**_Past, pt 10_ **

 

* * *

 

_Feudal Japan  
Intermittent Warring Villages_

The fires spread rapidly across the central regions and throughout the drained edges that touched the west and south. The once bustling trade town at the great bridge was eerily quiet, save for the brave that chose to stay. Quietly, traders pass through the ravaged villages. The main trade routes were eradicated of life, a consequence of the war that inched closer and closer to the west.

The Uchiha's victory at the bridge granted them entry into the once impenetrable region, the staple of the Senju's power had been breached, and like a bacteria the Uchiha and Uzumaki forces spread into the healthy land.

Even the mighty western Rogues kept their distance, vultures in nature — whatever the armies didn't use, they swept away from the common people.

Villagers were spared only on the promise that they swore their allegiance to the east. The unifying marriage between Hanabi Hyuga and Izuna Uchiha supported the growing army with grain and gold — having maintained abstinence from the war for decades provided them with ample resources that were now readily given to the Uchiha,

Tobirama saw the wrecked land at the hands of two great clans, at the mercy of  _his_ clan — many of the villagers that once thrived off of the common ground already left, and the remaining few in the once bustling trading village looked at him with sad, hollow eyes. Their faces reflected the misery the Great War brought to them.

It sickened him.

Tobirama dragged himself through the village by the bridge, offering the coins he found in his pocket for some bread and soup at a tavern. Each individual in the room eyed him as if he were a ghost.

As the soup warmed his throat, he wondered why he couldn't remember anything from the day before.

It's a blur — but also nonexistent.

The last clear thing he remembered is seeing the cliff's edge after being released from the Uchiha and waking up a mile off of the main trading route with a couple of coins, his sword, and white mare.

Did he black out?

His frustration was palpable, and part of him upon waking  _knew_  something horrible happened. But what could it be? His memory was spotty and he couldn't accurately remember  _something_  vitally important to him. It frustrated him because the white leopard  _always_ prided himself as the one with the better memory between Hashirama and himself. Yet, whatever his mind combed through to find wouldn't surface.

Or maybe it was the long months of being in the dark cells.

All he can remember is the color pink, but everything else is gone.

Why _pink_?

A dream, that's what it could have been.

A glorious, befitting dream.

All he knew was that he needed to return to his brother and finish this war.

xox

_Uchiha Stronghold_

Unlike that of the Uchiha who pride themselves in the inauguration of their new rida, the Uzumaki are much more simple. The inheritance of the Uzumaki faction to Kazuya is held in the back wind lots surrounding the waterfall.

The pollen of spring have graced the day, twinkling and floating in the warm air. The sun warmed Sakura's skin as she stood at Madara's side. For the first time in months she's able to wear a sheer blue dress, cinched by a gold colored waistband and a low collar, hugging the modest curves of her chest, topped with gold pleated straps that tied a light blue chiffon cape that draped down her back.

Madara eyed his betrothed from the corner of his eye, climbing her delicate face until he met her striking emerald eyes that fondly watched her father kneel before the generals and officials of his house. They pull the lantern incense over Kazuya's shoulders, blessing his transition as their new leader. The  _kannushi*_  murmured a small prayer, unifying the blessings of the house and it's people.

The young girl held her breath, the look on her father's face is externally serious, but their discussion the night before left her sympathetic. Her father, even before meeting her mother —  _never_  wanted a dealing in power.

It didn't befit the nature of his soul — the soul of a  _healer_.

For her safety, and to help stop this war, her father agreed to it.

Sakura's hands are firmly held in front of her sternum, appraising her father's nervousness — unknowing to the watchful eye of Madara. Yet she can feel it, and briefly she glanced up to see him watching her — and she smiled delicately, his features soften in response, and like growing adolescents he takes a minuscule shift in his weight so their shoulders brush.

Goosebumps kiss the exposed skin on her arms.

It's been two weeks since the white leopard left back to the west — and slowly Sakura numbed the pain of his absence. In that time, she was careful to let the love bites and bruised skin heal so Madara wouldn't see. His time was delegated to directing this war, in her downtime each morning she snuck off to the neighboring village to help heal the sick.

Surprisingly, Madara allowed it — more surprisingly, he would send a guard, a wagon of food, and healing supplies for her to distribute to her patients on her daily trips.

Yesterday, she thanked him for being so generous — and he merely kissed her forehead and walked away, leaving her slightly dumbfounded by his behavior.

It's a glimpse of the man she  _first_  fell in love with.

Steeling her wondering thoughts, her father kneels before his people, and the officials offer him the crest of the Uzumaki.

Sakura rights herself, unable to breathe as her father is handed the titles of their land — a land she was born in but didn't know, the same land that allowed the hunters to chase after her mother and tear apart her family when she was only a babe.

For reasons unknown to her — everyone bows except Madara.

Her father and Madara meet halfway, two prominent men in her life. Whispers unknown to the ears around them are shared, and the small group of powerful men and their wives watch as the declaration is officially made.

"The great clans of the Uzumaki and Uchiha are united in grace and sanctity, made formal by the betrothal of Uzumaki Kazuya's daughter and Uchiha Madara. On this day forward, Kazuya has been blessed by Kami as the delegate clan leader for the remaining Uzumaki clan. "

The group rose and clapped.

Madara and her father stood side by side, two looks that spoke volumes startled her.

The smallest smirk catalogued itself on the powerful dark haired man's face, tugged upward only by the slightest sense of knowing more than everyone else here. Her father looked directly at her, his eyes begged for a reprieve although he kept his face void of telling his truth.

_Wait._

A sense of power tickled her fingers when she raised her hand, and Sakura watched carefully as the pollen floating in the air paused, the small murmurs of the officials and generals stopped, the sound of the waterfall crashing against the water faded into silence — leaving her in a permeated loneliness as she stopped the ceremony.

Frozen faces, lost in a lick of time mesmerized her as she walked forward.

Hanabi and Inuza were sharing a knowing glance.

Sakura took a measured step forward, she felt like she was floating — it tickled her feet.

She studied the many faces that looked like porcelain dolls. Their waning energy trickled towards her, urging her forward. On the floor, tied to her ankle was the familiar red string.

And there it was.

Once again, the red string tied itself to her and Madara.

For once, she could circle him without him knowing. Once, twice, she studied the chiseled face, the strong jawline, and the thick sea of midnight locks. Briefly, she traced her fingers over the bare skin on his thick forearm, wondering if he knew about the hunters and her mother. A well researched man was a dangerous one, and Madara was  _both_.

He didn't know about her power, and she vowed to keep this to herself.

The string breathed life into her, igniting a slimmer, pale version of the markings as she held onto the pause of time.

Practice.

Each day she practiced holding time. Each moment she memorized the energy around her, manipulating it by her fingers.

In her chambers she started small, waiting to see if the sounds of the castle would quiet.

She felt distinct in a world so thick with powerful men.

The energy of the people would shift around her, almost like a glow of their inner light that flared when she got near. Sakura rubbed gentle circle's into her lover's wrist — something he used to love.

Seconds later — or could it have been minutes?

Madara's fingers twitched until his palm opened, startling the young woman, cracking her hold on her power. Sakura yelped, doubling back away from Madara and her father and moving herself to her original position, heart tearing holes into her chest as she watched the world resume.

Like a crumbling star, it exploded in movement all at once — igniting her lungs with air she desperately needed.

Madara blinked and his eyes drew to his open palm. Sakura gulped, nobody seemed to notice anything different as the ceremony waned — except for him.

Quietly, he trailed his gaze until he met her faux bravado. She held her ground, searching frantically for answers.  _I'm such a fool!_   _Why did I do that around him?!_ _How could he move!_ Mentally screeching at herself for such a foolish idea, the people around her began to move when the ceremony concluded. She was getting too comfortable.

But he shouldn't have been able to move.

In all the power and glory he possessed, Madara said his thanks to the kannushi and officiating generals, lastly saying his thanks to Kazuya who was saturated by his people congratulating him, as per custom in a titling ceremony.

While Sakura waited, heart still palpating wildly in her chest, the formal rida came over to her and offered her his hand, which she readily obliged — hoping he wouldn't notice how sweaty her palms were.

He didn't say anything, but pulled her close to kiss her yin seal — silent as day.

Sakura squeaked in surprise, feeling the  _smirk_  on his face as he kissed her.

_He knows! Oh Kami, he knows!_

For the rest of the day as Sakura paced back and forth in her chambers,  _begging_  for answers — but the only sounds that welcomed her were the arriving birds of spring building their nests in the treetops.

_xox_

_Uchiha Stronghold  
Sakura's Chambers_

In the dead of night, Sakura found herself waking due to the sounds stemming down the hall from Izuna's wing. The  _lovely_  sounds of the Hyuga heiress and the consummating of their marriage echoed, and by now Sakura felt  _much_  too intimate with the familiar noises — she scrunched up her nose, frowning to herself. Nearly blushing mad, it made her wonder if Hanabi  _knew_  how thin the walls were on this level.

Fortunately, it never lasted very long.

Instead of trying to stuff her head into a pillow, she chose to wake with the nocturnal owls and spend her time admiring the moon and millions of stars that sprinkled themselves throughout the night sky.

On this night, Sakura moved to her balcony that hung over the castle and the steep hill. It gave her an ample view of thousands of miles ahead of her — and an even better broadcast of the performing stars and sounds that decorated the darkness.

She tugged her shawl over her shoulders to ghost herself from the slight chill of the spring.

In her time to think, the sounds of the two newlyweds would drown out, and she simply  _appreciated_  the world in quiet solidarity.

Appreciated the wind rolling through the valley, the distance howls of the wolves calling for one another, all in accordance to a world she didn't understand. She didn't want this peace to end, because in the morning brought a new day of hardship and issues that would need to be solved.

Leaning against the thick railing, her pink hair turned into a dark rose dusted by starlight strands of silver. She felt him before she could say anything when he brushed off of her neck, strong arms captured her on either side. Sakura smiled to herself, "you couldn't sleep either?" she murmured to Madara.

He hummed appreciatively against her hair, inhaling her sultry scent as he pressed his chest against her back, towering over her petite frame.

Sakura leaned back, closing her eyes when he fit himself against her. Their bodies a puzzle piece fit together, carved so naturally it's almost amusing.

"It's a beautiful night," she offered.

"It is," he agreed, "I heard your windows open, am I bothering you?"

She could refuse him now and he would probably leave.

But he's warm, and the sky has fascinated her.

Pressing against his back, she snuggled against her betrothed, lulled by his warmth and the sounds of the night. For this  _one_  moment she'll cave in. "No, you're not." The beauty of the night, combined with the graceful air that tingles her skin as if she drank a few glasses of wine serenades her into temporarily forgetting the world.

Together, they enjoy the night air.

Neither of them say anything else, their silence speaks much more than words could.

He doesn't pressure or expect anything of her.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, protectively holding her close to his chest.

Sakura gingerly gripped his wrists, holding onto this moment.

Because in the morning, fear will hold her heart once more.

xox

_Meeting Hall_

"How could you be so blind as to think Hashirama hasn't effectively come up with a derisive way to combat us at the neck?" one of the Uzumaki generals snapped, "more than that — we have the other half of our house waiting for us!"

Madara sighed, looking at the table with the detailed map of the west, the room grew eerily quiet — the Uzumaki were always known for being fiery, and Madara iced his eyes over the older male, "how could I  _what?_ " he voiced low.

The room chilled.

Someone nervously cleared their throat, "if I may…?" Kazuya wondered, hoping to stop the high tension in the room before one of his advisors got themselves killed, "I've spent the last five years of my life  _healing_  the Senju soldiers…Why not stop at the neck? That's more than half way through the trek to their estate — are you looking for entire dominion over their land?"

"We want the Senju  _eradicated!"_ Madara's uncle Binji snapped, holding Tajima's instilled loathing for the opposing clan.

"If we ravage the entirety of the west, we are no better than the Senju were decades ago! We will be held in remembrance to the common people and history books as slaughterers!" Kazuya's anger grabbed him, the sympathy he shared for the lives of the people welled deep in him after trekking through the land as a wanderer.

"We aren't killing the common people! If they pledge their allegiance to the Uchiha clan they will be given restitution—"

"After their homes have been burned down and watched their families starve? You men may not realize it, but these decisions aren't only a matter of killing soldiers when you're making these decisions in the safety of a castle, it affects the common people—"

Izuna broke into the conversation, "that is the price of  _war_. The Senju would do it to us without question."

His uncle and the other Uchiha generals simmered, brewing at their chance to make Kazuya understand, but Madara spoke first, " _Kazuya-san_."

The newly anointed man straightened himself, "forgive me, I just find it difficult to stomach war after everything I've seen," he said, defeated.

xox

Sakura smoothed the edges of her dress, humming happily to herself for the first time in weeks. Returning from the infirmary, the healers looked at her as if she grew a new head, attempting to nicely dismiss her — but she was having none of it. They allowed her to help eventually, which she found a surmountable pleasure in simply helping wrap bandages or organizing tools.

Surprisingly, they let her put a splint on a stable boy's broken arm, and with practiced fingers Sakura saw to his leave,

Madara would possibly question her about it later, but oh well.

Returning back to the main halls, she hoped to find her father. Mira was speaking with another maid when Sakura spotted her, dawning a friendly smile, "Mira-chan, do you know where my father is?" she chimed happily.

The two women bowed deeply, something Sakura still wasn't used to and she hesitantly laughed and put her hands up to stop them, "you really don't—"

"Kazuya-sama is in the board room with the other generals and Madara-sama," Mira interrupted, this would be their tenth time going back and forth on the etiquette of the house, and although Mira was younger and smaller than Sakura, she had the stubborn tenacity of a bull.

Thanking her newfound friend, Sakura said her goodbyes, promising to find Mira later.

When she reached the top of the grandeur steps, Sakura could feel the bubbling nerves eat at her stomach.

Booming voices yelled from beyond the large doors, one being Madara's uncle Binji who she found to be outright cruel — and the next being her father. Dread jellied her legs, but she pressed further, standing by the door to listen to the private conversation.

Her father's proclamation broke her heart, the wisps of hope clung to him — and she prayed Madara would listen.

xox

The rida contemplated Kazuya's words closely, deciding that the people didn't need to suffer any longer, "then we decide on a new plan."

All of his generals and brother looked at him as if he lost his mind.

"You're joking, brother — we're winning this war!" Izuna inched forward, mouth agape.

"I never joke on serious matters, Kazuya-san has a point. We cannot drivel ourselves to the same cruelties that the Senju bestowed on us. Within our land there are villages filled with Uchiha and Senju descendants alike because of them — and this war is ravaging the land I've been honored to protect," he lamented, reminding himself of his mother.

By now, his father would be churning unhappily in his grave - amiss with his decision.

Binji spoke up first, eyes narrowed, "you're  _nothing_  like your father," he spat, "Tajima-sama would  _never_  back away from battle!"

Every male in the room felt it shrink.

A few long, tense moments drew before Madara spoke.

Very few men disrespected Tajima without getting their hands cut off — Madara pulled his knife and stabbed quickly maneuvered it beneath his uncle's throat, careful to only allow the smallest cut to pierce his skin — a hard sneer tugged on his lips, "I am  _not_  my father," he boomed, "unlike him — I  _will_ kill you."

The older male lamely swallowed, surprised by his nephews action. A drop of blood slid down his throat and Madara kept his eyes trained on him, " _do not_  disrespect me."

One flick of his wrist and he could kill him.

Fear trickled down the spines of the men in the room, the black crow stood tall, waiting for someone else to question him.

When none came, he looked at his uncle once more — A mutual pass of understanding reached them, and he set his knife back in it's hilt, allowing the old man to breathe. Elders be damned, Madara refused to host any contempt among his close men.

Like a wounded dog, his uncle begrudgingly straightened himself, the display proved to unsettle him.

Sakura strained to hear through the door, part of her  _knew_  she needed to leave now. Muffling herself, she tried to move, but her legs wouldn't budge, like hardened cement her limbs felt too heavy to pick up. Curiosity inclined her to stay and the voices beckoned her to listen.

Minutes passed with Sakura pressed to the door, craning to hear something.

"We stall the combined forces at the neck — that will be close enough for Hashirama to drag himself from the west, and I will defeat him there," Madara proposed, leaning over the map, "we don't move further west — the neck will be the final battle in this valley," he pointed out.

His men listened intently, until Izuna spoke up, "and what do you think this will do? They will just retreat further west like scared dogs."

"During the battle — I will send my best men to kill Tobirama Senju and the others at the estate," Madara declared, moving their clan chip over the map — directly atop of the estate.

Sakura's heart plummeted.

"There are no other battle savvy generals amongst the Senju, their alliance with the remaining Uzumaki will crumble, and we will allow those that swear allegiance to join Kazuya's clan — any renegades or traitors will be killed. It will break their morale, and we won't have to plunge further west — saving half of their region under a truce with the new leader," he explained unequivocally.

A hushed murmur presented itself over the room.

"They can't overcome our numbers, and this will save hundreds if not thousands of lives."

"But…What about the children within the estate? Surely there will be a lineage issue," Kazuya bristled warily.

Madara flicked his lip with his thumb, combing over the map, unbothered by the question. "That was their mistake. Itama is dead and unwed, Hashirama has been unable to conceive with Mito, and Tobirama is childless. The true Senju line will come to an end."

The girl outside the door glanced down at her womb, gently cradling her stomach.

"And there's no room for a peace agreement?" Kazuya bartered.

"None," Madara said with finality.

The men in the room all murmured their agreement.

The meeting closed, leaving Sakura to hurry and hitch her yukata so she could escape before being seen.

xox

She couldn't eat.

The glass of wine swirled in her cup, measured by the strokes of her wrist.

Mira carefully braided her hair behind her, intricately weaving the growing locks and happily humming to herself. It served to calm Sakura's nerves, but nothing could prepare her for what she was going to do.

Her friend could sense her trepidation, "is there something wrong, Sakura-sama?"

Sakura gnawed on her inner cheek, so lost in a daze she nearly didn't hear her question, "sorry, what?"

The young girl giggled, "you're thinking of Madara-sama, aren't you?"

_Yes._

"No, of course not! What would make you think that?"

Mira put a clip in her hair, "because you have the eyes of a woman in love. Also, you had me run you a bath and wanted me to help you pick out a nice night slip…Which can only mean—" a knowing, teasing smile played at her friend's face, "you plan on bedding him tonight!"

Sakura whipped around in her chair, "n- _no_! Our ceremony isn't until another moon!"

Not that it mattered, since her purity was something long forgotten.

"So? I see the way he looks at you, and the way you look at him. I apologize for speaking out of turn, but I envy the relationship you have with Madara-sama," Mira murmured whimsically.

The princess gapped silently, wondering  _what_  this girl possibly witnessed that made it seem so.

She went to pick up her night slip, "how so?"

"His proposal to you in the gardens! It was beautiful! You looked so gorgeous, Sakura-sama — like a cherry blossom! And for months he planned the gardens, taking it upon himself to make sure your favorite flowers would be in bloom. He catered to your chambers, and when you two take walks I can just  _see_  how much he loves you. Whenever you pass by he looks at you as if you're everything to him," she finished, picking out a pale pink obi to compliment the white night slip.

Sakura stayed quiet, unsure how to respond.

She didn't want to damper her friend's image of them.

It would be better for her to go along with it.

Though, she did wonder about all of the lilies and lilacs bustling in the garden.

Soon, the cherry blossom trees would be presenting themselves, marking the raw days of spring — and it didn't go unnoticed by her how the ground was still unraveled, indicating that those were transplated there several moons ago so they could take root and blossom in time for spring.

"…The gardens were meant for me?" she asked, standing so Mira could help her put on her thin slip.

Mira nodded, feverous in her explanation, "mhm! The stronghold…Wasn't very welcoming a year ago. But Madara-sama wanted to make you feel at home knowing that you would come back."

The pinkette lifted her arms as Mira tied the obi tight around her waist, for once she was at a loss for words.

No.

She couldn't change her mind, not now.

"Mira…I consider you a friend, I hope you know that."

The young girl tilted her head curiously, doll-like face twisted in confusion, "of course, Sakura-sama. You've been very kind to me since you've arrived — and I enjoy our time together," she beamed.

Sakura hugged the young girl, furthering her confusion, "good."

By tomorrow — the stronghold would find out that she killed Madara, and her life would no longer be her own.

xox

_Madara's Chambers_

The wind whistled through his opened window, serving to shake the trees and drag the noises of the night into his room. He couldn't sleep, because intuition told him something may happen soon. Briefly, he glanced at the vile that still stood prominently on his perhaps the hundredth time, he moved like a large feline to the vile — inspecting it, hoping to find an answer for the liquid within the glass.

It's the timid knock on his door that served his intuition.

Madara glanced at the source of the sound, understanding that there would only be one person with the audacity to knock this late.

Sakura closed her eyes, swallowing to calm her quaking nerves.

_I control fate._

_I control fate._

The decision to kill him didn't come easy, and it left her with two nights of tossing and turning, but it had to be done. He promised her he wouldn't harm her white knight, but he lied. She wouldn't allow him to kill an entire clan — not when those people had been so welcoming to her.

She could stop this war, and the first step would be by killing her betrothed.

Madara opened the door, his large frame loomed over her — and he was dressed in nothing but a robe and loose hakamas, "Sakura," he greeted.

The fiery spirit looked away shyly, biting her lip — hoping that her bravado would hold, "Madara-sama…"

He noticed the jasmine scent that complimented her, he noticed the way her skin glistened from a fresh bath, and the way she had her hair braided. He even noticed the thin slip that barely covered her cleavage, held together by an obi purposely accentuating her slender curves. He groomed his gaze over her, "do you need something?"

Sakura fidgeted, already losing her bearings under his speculative eye, "I…Just wanted to spend time with you, I couldn't sleep."

He raised a brow, knowing that it would be too soon for her to come to him.

"You're lying."

His harsh words brazened her, "I am not! I just thought that —- I don't know, I had such a nice time with you the other night I thought that maybe…I could spend time here."

This wasn't working.

The flustered flush on her cheeks subdued him, and before she decided to leave and try again another night, he side-stepped to let her in.

Slightly shocked, Sakura recovered and walked herself into his chambers. Much different than the compound far into the east, but similar colors of black and crimson covered his room. She suddenly became overtly self-conscious about her slip and hugged herself to cover her hard nipples, "…this room is different than the one at the compound."

She could hit herself,  _really_? That's the best she could come up with?

Where did her nerve go?

"You don't have to do this," Madara figured, moving past her back to his bed — nonchalantly grabbing a book.

"Do what?"

"You don't have to force yourself. You aren't ready, that's fine. I can  _smell_  the fear on you, Sakura," he said pointedly.

She blushed, avoiding his eye, "I'm  _not_ forcing myself to do anything," she rebelled.

It was sort of comical to see her like this.

Where before he had her screaming into pillows, the same girl opted for a shade of shyness that was rather endearing, "are you now? That's why you're quivering like a leaf as you stand in my room."

She crossed her arms defiantly, annoyed with his ability to easily assess her, "what do you know? Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you!"

"My blossom, we have a lifetime to spend together — you don't have to wear your translucent slip to attract me. When you're ready, it will happen," Madara chastised.

Sakura huffed.

How could he look so smug? Laying on his bed in nothing but a silk robe and hakamas? He barely looked at her, and this wouldn't work if she blindly attacked him.

Within her obi Sakura hid Heromi's blade, needing to find the right opportunity as to not arouse suspicion. Once she held time, she would need to slit his throat and leave — but for how long she could hold it would be the issue.

Softening herself, she glided across his room until she stood by his window, bathing herself in moonlight, her hands dropped to grip the ledge, "you don't want me anymore?" she shot at him, hoping to get a rise out of him.

Madara paused, utterly perplexed, "excuse me?"

"I don't understand you," she gripped the ledge a little harder, "I'll  _never_  understand you."

He traced her silhouette, trying to see the direction of her outward statements, "you just want me for my birthright so you can have leverage in this war. I see right through you."

"You're jumping to conclusions," he warned her.

"Am I?" she turned to face him, nails digging into the hard wood, "you say you love me, but how am I to believe the words of a liar? You promised me, you  _promised_  me you would never hurt me!"

Madara sat himself up in his bed, wondering where her bi-polar jump came from. Though, her explosive anger would always be a trait of hers, and for a time he came to understand it.

"Why do you go to such lengths for me? Why do you  _confuse_  me?"

" _Sakura_."

"No! You took everything from me!" she clenched her fists, the exertion of her irascible emotions were taking over, "it's pitiful, isn't it? Me saying yes to marry the man that took my innocence."

" _Stop,"_ his jaw clenched, but he looked straight at her.

"I was nothing more than a whore to you, yet you made me think differently. You stole my heart and used me! You banished me from your life when I was willing to do anything for you! And now you act so differently towards me, you expect me to forget our broken past with a lavish proposal and  _time?_  Nothing can fix this!" she spoke the truth, because if she was anything — she would always be honest to her feelings.

"What would you have me  _do_!?" he roared to life, shooting up to tower over her, "I loved you, I  _still_  love you! Do you think I  _enjoyed_  treating you that way? Do you think I wanted to adhere to the pressures of my clan? To my  _father?"_

The war lord snapped.

"I fell in love with a woman I bought at an auction. You beguiled me each day we spent together, and  _every_  day I regret the way I treated you there after! I've done everything I could to prove to you otherwise. I've granted the man that  _killed_  my  _father_  freedom for your sake. I have waited, I will give you the time you need, but your baseless assumptions about how I feel are ridiculous — My biggest regret is losing your love!"

Sakura felt her anger boil.

The year of her pain under his indifference imploded.

She slapped him across the face.

" **Do not**  talk to me about regrets," she seethed, "everything you did had a purpose, I'll  _never_ forgive you."

Madara stopped the rage that threatened to consume him.

His cheek stung, but her words crossed him more than whatever pain she could offer him did.

Skura hugged herself, unable to cry — but felt a dry sob choke her, "if you truly loved me, you wouldn't have treated me so horribly." A fierce, determined look perpetuated her usually lively features.

Silence settled over them, the wind whistled outside his opened window when Madara finally asked, "do you want to leave?"

The rage that filtered behind his eyes melted when he came to the conclusion, "if you want nothing more than to leave — then leave. I won't stop you, you can return to the Senjus with a guarded escort."

Such an offer made her stall in disbelief.

Sakura froze,  _what?_

He would never allow that. They were to be wed — the preparations were already starting, "you're…you're lying," she whispered.

Madara looked away from her, traveling his sight to the west, "I'm not. I've perpetuated enough suffering for you. I don't want a life of agony if it means being by my side. I was a monster, and call me the devil — but I don't plan on forcing you to be with me."

She couldn't speak.

"I love you, Sakura — one day I hope you can forgive my sins, but if not then I'd rather you find happiness elsewhere," he finished. The forlorn, tired look on his face spoke volumes — and for the first time since she arrived, she could visibly see the guilt etched into his soul.

Maybe Mira was right.

" _But_ …"

The  _elsewhere_  meant Tobirama.

If she wanted, he was granting her the opportunity to return to her white knight.

Could she do it? Could she walk out of those doors and run back west?

Madara swallowed, he swallowed his pride and caved. He loved her, he couldn't express it, nor could he ask for her forgiveness, but he would do everything to have her understand, "stay with me?"

The rasp and vulnerability in his voice dragged a knife through her own convictions.

Before she could stop herself, Sakura's legs moved on their own.

The war lord and cherry blossom met halfway.

She never thought her arms would find their way around his neck.

In a meeting of veiled feelings and broken trust, the passionate hatred that would always haunt them felt like the waves pelting the shoreline. Yet, the waves would always meet the beach no matter what the clouds dragged forth to stop them.

He never thought she would kiss him, consuming his mouth with a fervor that could only be ignited by two lost souls finally reuniting.

Madara hummed against her lips, growling and nipping to allow him entrance, Sakura greedily accepted, losing her hands into the thickness of his hair. He took over her mouth, dominating her in their battle. He knew her body, he had every inch and curve memorized from the nights and days they shared together.

He could orchestrate her by his will, manipulating her strings like a grand puppeteer until he had her crying for a release.

Sakura shivered when he pressed his thumbs into the small of her back, the gentle circles contrary to the normally rough hold he used on her. He moved his hands to cup her bottom, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around him.

They pulled away to breathe, staring each other in the eye — captivated by the clashing of emerald and onyx.

He held her close to him, in his arms she felt so small and light — much smaller than the fierce woman he would be married to and that would become his matriarch.

The only woman that managed to break him without trying — the only one that gently reminded him of his mother but held a passion for the world that he would always be attracted to.

Madara groaned when he felt her shift her hips, the slight roll of her hips made his length harden against her inner thigh. He kissed her lips again, bruising her and gruffly pulling away to bite at her lip. Sakura panted, barely having to grip around his waist with her thighs when her hands cupped either side of his face, searching and finding a piece of home she felt so long ago.

The princess tossed her head back when Madara kissed her chin, traveling his way to her neck, hungrily sucking on the soft skin until he bit down on her spot, eliciting a sharp cry from Sakura.  _Gods_ — she was already wet.

He walked them to his bed, their hips meeting in slow motions. His member prodded at her bare sex beneath her slip, only divided by his loose hakama that strained against his swollen length.

Depositing her on the bed, a mess of hands and legs rolled them into the furs. Sakura couldn't remove herself, she wanted to be taken by him — he loomed over her, their panting matched one another, and he dove in again.

Sakura moaned, the open mouth kissed softened both of them and he licked her lips like a starving wolf, the taste of her driving him into a sweet surrender.

He wanted all of her.

She blinked up at him, a transient moment passed between them, pausing their movement to appreciate the warmth coddling them.

Delicately, Sakura lifted her fingers to brush her knuckles against his cheek — still red with her handprint.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

Madara silenced her with a soft kiss.

Tender and sweet.

Even though he openly confessed to her — she had to. Even though he opened himself, she had to stop this war herself. If it meant dismantling half of the effort, she couldn't let anyone else be harmed.

If her father's words couldn't reach Madara, than she would.

Sakura used her strength to flip them over, her thighs clenching around his waist to hold him still as her hands gripped either side of his face, distracting him with a last, final kiss.

It spoke of their farewell.

_I'm sorry._

The war lord didn't notice the purple markings glowing on her fare skin.

Jagged stripes criss-crossed over her body, all stemming from her yin seal. The power of time and energy capsulated her, humming in a gravitational pull she was becoming familiar with. The wind caressing the castle ceased to move, the yawns and feral calls of the cats outside silenced themselves.

When Madara opened his eyes, the woman before him was no longer Sakura — but a goddess.

" _I'm sorry_ ," she panted, holding time.

Before he could speak, time froze — leaving her betrothed in a space of nothingness, lost in the moment of trying to speak. Sakura shakily pulled Heromi's dagger from her obi, gripping the handle from it's sheath as fear clawed her stomach.

"I can do this," she reminded herself, pressing the blade to his neck.

One stroke.

One swipe of the blade and he would painlessly bleed out.

It wouldn't hurt him, and she would leave in the dead of night — it would give her time to head west once more and stop this war. The blade trembled in her hand, the cool metal pinched his skin, one move — that's all it would take.

He looked so innocent staring lifelessly at her.

Sakura gripped the handle hard enough until her fingers turned white. " _Do it_!" she breathed to herself. He was a monster, a war lord that thrived off the battlefield and took pleasure in taking the lives of his enemy. He planned to kill an entire clan, leaving them stripped of everything without any sympathy. He  _lied_  to her. He would kill the Senju without any remorse, even after promising her.

She steeled herself and pressed harder against his neck, drawing out a bead of ruby blood.

It dribbled down the length of his neck, leaving a trail behind it.

Her face turned red as blood rushed to her cheeks, her face felt too hot as the room shrank. It was only them, and tears surfaced to her jaded eyes. Why couldn't she do it? Why couldn't she bring justice to herself and those that he wronged?

"Do it!"

She waited, trying to force herself.

Her hands wouldn't move, her body shook with the ferocity of her emotions.

"Do it!" she cried to herself, trying to remember each horrible thing this man ever did or said to her. Hot, thick tears escaped her. Her empathetic nature reflected back at her in his dull eyes.

When she pressed again, Sakura jutted the blade forward — gasping in shock when it slipped, drawing forth more blood. The inky liquid stained her blade and dribbled down his pale neck much too quickly. Terror filled her hands and she chucked the knife away from her, tears streaking down her cheeks when she screamed to herself in frustration.

_I can't do it._

She would be no better than the men owning this war. If Madara died, Izuna would take control and he was more ruthless than the man beneath her.

Her tears fell onto his cheeks, and she hurried to grip her hands on his throat, trying to stop the onslaught of his wound.

When the blood didn't stop, Sakura panicked.

" _No no no_!" she cried, ashamed of herself and her stupidity. She didn't want him to die, not by her hand — and not after he opened himself up to her. She wasn't a heartless monster, and her heart was too forgiving to do something like this. Forgiveness wrapped itself in a person's ability to unchain themselves from the past, and she did the opposite.

Quickly, she grabbed her obi and ripped it with her teeth, rushing to tightly wrap it over the cut and around his neck. Her hands placed as much pressure as she could — and the emerging liquid slowed, thank goodness _— it's shallow wound.  
_

Her small frame shook from the exertion of her pressure on his neck until it finally stopped, the blood clotted and crusted as she felt shame turn to fire on her skin.

Each tear that landed on his face served as a reminder of what she almost did.

Sakura closed her eyes, lost atop of the man she first fell in love with — her hands were tainted, and she dropped her shoulders, wishing she knew the answers to stop this war and bring peace to this land. He had been willing to let her go, but she opted for an option that would only bring more destruction.

She could  _talk_  to him, and yet she didn't even try to change his mind first.

Blaming herself, she didn't notice his eyes blink.

The dark eyes sprung to life, landing on the woman gripping his neck.

When he felt her warm tears fall on his cheeks, he could smell the blood and her guilt in one consuming motion.

He roughly grabbed her wrists, coughing and waking like a slumbering creature found in the high caves of the north. Sakura gasped, shooting her eyes to witness the man that  _should_ be frozen in time suddenly blink up at her, shock transparent on his face.

Through his coughing fit he noticed the violet markings tattooed on her face. The dormant yin seal on her forehead glowed like an amethyst caught in the sun's light, sparkling and contrasting against her eyes.

He could feel the energy around them.

It danced like a spring storm before the cherry blossoms emerged.

It felt… _Warm._

Wordlessly, they stared at one another — Sakura couldn't answer how he was able to move, let alone merge into this time space with her. The world remained silent, but she could feel his chest rise and fall beneath her. -  _How?!_

"Madara?" she whispered in disbelief.

His throat burned.

The blood on his neck felt damp against his skin, but he kept his grip firm on her dainty wrists, trying to process what happened. As if he blinked, she was suddenly on top of him with her hands around his neck.

 _He's going to kill me_.

Sakura was sure of it, but he gently guided her hand away from his neck — the stinging sensation from his wound answered what he could already guess was her attempt to kill him, but he didn't understand how. He lifted her hand to his eye level, noting the blood that covered her fingertips.

His blood.

"I…I," Sakura sputtered to find an answer, but couldn't.

A mixture of terror, dread, and guilt altered her eyes thinking he would harm her.

Madara couldn't understand what was going on, but she looked breathtaking.

Pulling her forward by her wrist and he  _kissed_  her.

Her body curved to lie against him as she shakily kissed him, shocked by his action. He didn't care about her decision — he had it coming, and he would repent for the sins he committed, but Madara chose to look at her decision to save him instead.

He maneuvered them so he was on top, consuming her body with the weight of his. Sakura breathed into the kiss, pulling away to catch her breath, "you…why?" she panted.

Madara sealed her lips with another kiss, nulling her questioning. Her body lit on fire with his expert touches, he palmed her hips with his hands, traveling and tickling her skin as her legs opened for him. "Shhh," he rolled his hips into hers, causing the young princess to silence herself in his mouth. He discarded his hakama, working quickly to shed his robe and help her out of her slip like lovers that hadn't seen each other in years.

They didn't speak.

Words would never accurately explain them, nor could they ever voice what this was.

Perhaps they would always be two tormented souls strung together by fate.

He dipped his hand against her cunt, primping his fingers with her slickness.

She was wet.

Practically dripping for him, her body anticipating his touch.

Expertly, he dragged his finger over her pert nipple — flicking over the budding nub through the thin material of her slip. Sakura squirmed beneath him when he pinched her nipple, unable to stop her shaky moan,

He smirked to himself, but got distracted when he noticed the blood that painted her fingers. She had been careful to not touch him, and he grabbed her hand once more. The inky substance sparkled under the candle lit lighting, and he pressed her thumb to his lips, tasting it.

Sakura gulped, wide-eyed and mesmerized.

It tasted sweet and metallic, the war lord guided his index finger to a trail of the blood on his collar bone, swiping it tenderly to brush it against her lips. Her thighs quivered in anticipation, the wild beat in her chest pounded blood to her ears. When he pressed his finger to her lips, Sakura slightly parted her mouth.

He tasted like wild cherries with a hint of iron.

Her ache amplified between her legs, and she closed succulent lips around this digit, drawing out a groan from her lover.

Sakura closed her eyes, twirling her tongue around Madara's finger, eagerly consuming his essence.

When he pulled away, she had little time to prepare herself when he lifted her legs over his shoulders, his incredibly thick length dripping pre-cum on her clit. Once, twice he flicked his head against her entrance, grinding himself on her slit to gather her juices on his head.

She urged her hips forward, hoping to gain the amount of friction she desperately needed. She wanted him, she wanted him like she did when he pulled her pleasure from her body so many moons ago.

Madara glanced at her, requesting her permission.

Sakura reached forward to cup his cheek in her hand, a relieved smile caressing her face.

The two fated lovers met once again.

Guiding himself, his thick length hilted her in one thrust — causing the young princess to bite her lip from crying out as she tossed her head back. He was  _thick_ , so thick he stretched her walls to the point of hurting her, and she cried into the back of her hand — her body slowly adjusting to his girth.

Madara waited, but felt himself pulse within her. It had been months since he was last inside her and she hugged him like a well fit glove, sucking him in deeper when she squirmed. Her face was twisted beautifully, and all he could do was stare at the woman he would move worlds for.

It hit him then.

"M-more," she moaned into her hand, breaking through his realization.

His hand skimmed up her chest to hold a breast, drawing his hips back to sharply thrust forward once more. She tossed her head back, letting her hand go — her cry echoed around his halls, and he wanted more.

He thrusted once more, building a slow momentum as their bodies synced together.

Sakura gripped the furs beneath her, " _Madara-sama,_ " she begged, brows furrowing in her plea.

The war lord kept himself grounded.

He continued his treacherous pace, he wanted to savor her and this moment.

Pink flooded to her cheeks, eyes half-lid as he slowly uncoiled her body.

Like an orchestrator, Madara lightly bit her calf, eliciting a raw hiss of pleasure from the woman beneath him. He groaned into her skin — denying them what they both wanted. The pain mixed in with the budding pleasure in her tight abdomen felt like she was going to break beneath him — but he hit her spot with each thrust, forcing her to curl her toes and arch off the bed.

He was driving her  _mad._

" _Please,_ " Sakura whined, finding herself trying to move her hips to increase his pace.

Madara stalled, playfully smirking at his betrothed so he could lean down and kiss the tip of her nose, "or  _else_?"

Sakura puffed her cheek out to pout but yelped when he angled her hips up further. Before she could grasp the beddings to anchor herself down, he snapped his his forward and nearly made her see stars.

"Ungh,  _yes_!"

The war lord snapped forward again, hissing to himself as her walls tightened around him with each thrust. A layer of sweat gathered on his skin from holding himself back, but he wanted to savor this moment.

It built like a thunderous wave — and the man atop was slowly losing control. He ground into her, moving their bodies together as his cock pushed into her with each roll of his hips. Sakura could do little but moan, biting her lip to stop herself.

When he picked up speed, Sakura cried out only to have her cry consumed by his mouth atop of hers.

She bit his lip, reaching her hand up to grip the headboard to root herself onto the bed.

Shots of pleasure thrummed through her abdomen when he fucked her, "yes,  _yes_!" she cried into the air.

Madara moaned, low and husky and so entirely masculine it made her cunt tighten. His self control slipped as their skin slapped together, "fuck!"

She threw her head back, revealing the expanse of her pale neck to him and he dropped one of her legs so he could ravage her neck. He sucked and hungrily licked at her supple skin, possessively growling when her walls began to constrict around him.

He kept devilishly thrusting himself into her, his length sucked by her tight walls. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, the markings on her skin highlighted by the sweat on her body. Madara groaned low and heavy into the sweet scent of her thin neck.

In one fluid motion he bit down, right on the spot that she loved so much.

Sakura careened off the bed, losing herself into the sea of pleasure that readily dragged her to him, " _Madara_!"

Her orgasm tore through her.

It sprung from her abdomen, quaking her silk walls around his cock, hoping to suck his seed from him. Her markings glowed brightly as the red string tied around the two lovers. He could see it encased around her. It wrapped around her neck and slithered its way up his arms. Slowly, it tied them together and amplified the feeling of him inside of her.

The sight of her raw orgasm made his balls twitch and his thighs clenched before he fell soon after her.

He gruffly grunted his release, his cock twitched as he sheathed himself deep inside of the Sakura, spilling his seed as her walls greedily choked him for everything he had. Sakura panted beneath him, the warm hum of her energy coaxed them both into a haze as his seed sat deep inside of her and warmed her belly.

Long seconds dragged by as they tried to recover, and Sakura found it hard for herself to open her eyes after such a powerful orgasm.

He dropped her other leg from his shoulder, their conjoined hard breathing echoed around them. Sakura batted her eyes at the man fate decided on for her, barely recognizing the prominent string comforting them.

She bit her lip, reaching forward to drag his face to her own and kissed him softly on the lips.

Madara returned her affection, barely able to keep himself stable on top of her.

Soft, sweet kisses made her smile into the kiss.

He paused, bearing down on her, "I love you." His normally guarded eyes opened, revealing the compass to his being. Those same eyes that once closed themselves were the same ones that transfixed her night after night are now the same ones that were guided her to his soul.

The young princess pulled him in for another kiss, "you're maddening," she griped at him playfully, unable to return his words.

Still hard within her, a fierce blush covered her cheeks — how could he still be hard after that?

He noticed her line of sight of where they were joined, his dark curls tickled her nether lips, and he smirked down at the suddenly shy woman beneath him. Careful to pull himself out, Madara flipped them over, carefully maneuvering them into a new position as her seed dripped over his length, driving him crazy.

Sakura squeaked when she found herself situated on his lap, her back pressed to his chest and her legs forced open by his own, exposing herself to his room. Sakura felt her skin tinge pink in embarrassment, "Madara!" she goaded, but he ignored her complaint and lapped at her neck, gently sucking on her skin as he entered her once again.

Slowly, he pumped himself into his inviting woman.

Her body was delicate to his touch from her previous peak and she moaned as he stretched and filled her again.

Lulling her head back on his shoulder, she fell under his spell when he began to play with her breasts, generously pumping into her core as Madara sucked on her neck. He pinched and pulled on her sensitive nipples, causing her to moan into the emptiness of the night air.

In the quietness of time, she let herself go.

He forced himself into her, his shaft sinking upwards into her cavern.

One hand reached between her legs to pinch her clit, squeezing the hardened nub and rolling it between his fingers, building her higher.

Sakura reached back and lost her hands in his dark hair, whimpering as he plowed himself into her, " _ngh_ , Madara-sama!" Sakura clenched her walls around him, the stimulation from her clit made her vision gloss over.

The cool air kissed her exposed slit, and she clenched her eyes shut — unable to hold herself back.

He hooked his arms beneath her legs to lift her onto his cock, barreling himself into her tight cunt. A virile groan echoed into her ear and Sakura cried out, a white hum of pleasure numbed her toes and she clenched at her fists. As soon as she felt her walls clench — Madara nearly stopped, slowing down to a painful pace that nearly made her delirious.

Sakura kicked back and whined, "please!"

He kissed her neck once more, teasing her with his length as he nearly pulled all the way out, "not yet blossom," he grunted into her ear.

She felt her walls pulse from the delay of her orgasm, frustration ripe on her face, "I-I want to," she cried.

Madara grinned to himself as he slowly entered her once more.

He thrusted into her, and Sakura swore she never felt like this before. He did it over and over again, driving her higher and higher and pinching her swollen clit, completely filling her and causing her vision to dance in black only to stop and delay her orgasm.

Minutes that could have felt like hours of this and her body was thrumming on the edge of exploding. Tears peaked out of her glimmering eyes when he stopped  _again,_  further delaying her orgasm that was  _so_  close.

Frustrated, Sakura gripped the back of his neck, arching her body to bounce herself on his thick length herself. Her body hummed and she slowly lost control of her yin seal, breaking the power when her markings receded.

The duo were lost in each other — Madara allowed her to momentarily take control and felt his cock twitch inside of her each time her velvet slit enveloped him once again, "Sak-!" he breathily hurled her name, his cock bulging on the precipice of his orgasm.

He used one of his hands to grip around her neck, careful to slight her breathing and bring her closer as she croaked her pleasure. His clever fingers gripped her throat and her vision spotted, her body readied itself for her final orgasm. "Oh, -  _Madara-sama_!" she beckoned as white rolls of ecstasy took her to oblivion.

 _So_  close.

Madara took control again and surged his hips upwards to meet her hips, her ass clapped against his thighs and she screamed his name in the throws of his chambers when her entire body shook —

"Yes,  _oh_ -!" she screamed.

He reached around and furiously rubbed her clit.

Sakura lost sight of herself.

His name played on her lips when she felt her orgasm hit, fire and pleasure swarmed her as her abdomen clenched around him.

It overtook her, and for a moment she blacked out as the pleasure rolled over her and paralyzed her legs.

Madara gripped either side of her hips as he pumped two more times and felt her walls milk him for his cum. A deep, raspy groan bit itself into her neck when he came inside her again, keeping her hips flush with hers as his length pulsated and came ropes of thick cum within her.

Long seconds passed as he finished and possessively growled out his release.

The princess could barely hold herself up on his thighs and collapsed against his chest, panting so hard her breasts rose and fell - nipples protruding into the air. Her heart raced form the onslaught, and she could barely keep herself awake when the world began to fade around her.

Spent, the two individuals basked in the afterglow of their orgasm.

It was minutes later when Madara mustered the energy to pull himself out of her. His seed dribbled out of her and onto the bed, and he shivered as his limp lover fell in his arms — so tired and exhausted that she fell asleep.

Slowly, he moved her into his arms and placed her beside him on the bed all the while she was curled next to him, refusing to leave the warmth he provided. Careful to not disturb her, he pulled up the damp furs around them and kept her close to his chest, throwing his arm protectively around her wen she cuddled up next to him.

For nearly an hour he ran his fingers through her soft pink locks, memorizing her face.

He didn't bother to wonder about the yin seal and the jagged tattoos.

Or the red string.

The war lord was sure she would tell him when she was ready.

Kissing the top of her head, her soft breathing pacified his normally tense body — and for the first time since she left, he felt at peace with her here. Sakura twitched in her sleep, brows furrowed when she finally woke some time later to the small circles gently rubbed into her back.

Half asleep, she glanced up at Madara and cuddled herself impossibly closer, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

"I'm sorry," she murmured in her daze.

He raised a brow, but kissed her again, "shhh, go back to bed."

Always the rebellious one, Sakura mumbled incoherently to herself even in the throws of sleep, "mm, but the war."

Madara chuckled to himself, "what about it?"

She wouldn't remember this in the morning, but she looked up at him through pretty half-lid eyes, "don't hurt anybody else."

She fell back asleep, leaving the war lord to lay beside his pinkette with her in his arms and debate about her words.

For her, he would do anything.

For the first time since they left each other, both the cherry blossom and war lord fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

xox

 _Present Day_  
_Kyoto, Japan_  
_Kuzu Ice Cream_

Sakura lapped at the ice cream cone in hand, tugging Madara along as he begrudgingly went on this long winded adventure with her through the city, "come on! We're so close to the museum!"

"You know I've been to this museum quite a few times, right? Actually, I helped the investors reopen—"

"Shut it!" Sakura cut him off with a pout and severe poke to the chest, "you're seriously no fun. Where's the sense of adventure when you've had a hand in everything in this city?"

The quizzical, thoughtful look on his face killed her as he tried to come up with an answer.

"Well—"

About to berate him for missing her sarcasm, she stopped when she noticed an odd scar appear on his neck.

Her heart jumped into her throat and she pulled away from him and nearly dropped her ice cream cone. Her behavior threw him and he touched his neck out of reflex, "what is it?"

Sakura looked closer to inspect his neck, face twisted in confusion, "did you always have that scar?"

Madara frowned, "what scar?"

"On your neck!"

Carefully, he touched his neck and felt the smooth edges of a prominent scar, "…no."

Sakura dug into her purse and brought out her mirror compact, juggling between shock and not dropping her treat, "you're telling me you never had  _that_?"

Sure enough, when the mirror got close to his neck it revealed a four inch superficial scar on his neck. Considering he scarred easily it wasn't a surprise, but that morning such a noticeable scar hadn't been there. He chose to ignore it to ease her worry for him. Madara smirked and threw an arm around her to bring his lips close to hush in her ear, "maybe that was from the other night, Kitten — you do like to scratch."

Sakura punched his arm,  _hard_ — but not after earning her a cackle from her boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited moment between two fated lovers -- please let me know what you think.  
> Thank you for reading!


	21. Konohana Sakuya-Hime

**_Present, pt 10_ **

* * *

 

_Bisu Casino  
Kyoto, Japan_

"Sakura-chan! Come here and give me some luck!" Shisui called her over.

There was laughter all around, and the eccentric cousin pulled on her hand to keep her close, face intent on the cards in front of him.

The collective group of men waited as the dealer lifted the cards — a five, and a ten, everyone held their breath, hoping for a dealer bust. When a jack rolled over on the table — Shisui and the rest of the table jumped up, collectively howling as the dealer bust. Winning their hands and having bet five hundred thousand yen on that hand, Shisui was ecstatic. He pulled her into a tight hug and spun the pinkette around, "this is the lucky flower, everybody! — I could kiss you right now!"

All the faces within the lounge were flushed from alcohol — it was casino night for Madara and his men, and he invited Sakura to come.

As it turned out, this was a celebration for their most recent haul. They moved the bricks and artillery from the ports and deposited them into the safehouses, and by the end of the week they would be selling to their local and foreign buyers deep in Japan. Madara told her this on the way here in the car, and it would be the first time he openly said anything to her about their underlying...Job.

It still didn't sit well with her, but he was being brutally honest and _wanted_ her to understand.

What she didn't expect for tonight was to be roped from person to person, dignified as a lucky flower and handed drinks. She wasn't much of a drinker, but this was one of the first nights where she found herself laughing and barred from the stress of this clan.

Madara shot at glare at his cousin, "kiss her and you'll be kissing my shoe — now hand her over," he joked from the craps table.

She floated from the blackjack to craps as Madara juggled the dice in his palm, "babe, blow on these for luck."

Sakura looked him in the eye and blew into his hand, eliciting a sharp glint of pleasure from the clan leader. He smirked down at her and tossed the dice, she watched as they landed on a six — drawing forth a shout from the men betting on the table as they all won.

He pulled her into a sweeping hug and kissed her, "that's my girl."

Two drinks in and she could already feel the heat rise to her head. The mood was airy and light, and she found that she thoroughly enjoyed spending time with their large family. Sasuke didn't bring her anywhere near his family aside from Itachi whenever he was back in town.

Madara kept her close, showering her in attention when she wasn't speaking with the other men and women and gambling herself.

He kissed her on the forehead, throwing the dice and landing on another six, the dark heads of black cheered once more.

Most good things didn't last long for her, and Sakura should have known better when she felt an uncomfortable and stiff air enter the large room.

Madara turned his attention past her, issuing a few of the other heads at the craps table to turn and look to see Sasuke entering. His eyes slightly narrowed, but the room resumed, too consumed by their games to partake in their heated triangle.

Sasuke spotted her, and Sakura stayed rooted by Madara.

Their eyes met.

_Please don't come this way._

She begged for this confrontation to be delayed for another time, but he headed straight towards her — hands stuffed in his pockets.

_Damn._

Noticing her distress, Madara took a protective stance behind Sakura, hand on the small of her back, "do you want me to tell him to leave?" he asked low in her ear, glaring at his cousin.

She sighed inwardly to herself when Sasuke got closer, "no, I need to talk to him eventually," she muttered under her breath.

Madara eased, but kept his attention on his cousin as he neared.

"Sakura," Sasuke greeted stoically — though she could tell he was itching to speak, which was a rarity in itself.

"Sasuke."

He was slightly taken back by her formality, and the two cousins shared a knowing look — Sasuke silently asked permission for his older cousin to back off — and reluctantly Madara turned his attention back to the waiting table.

"Can I speak with you?" he asked her, dropping his guard.

Sakura could break through the tension with her fist, and it occurred to her that she still hadn't read the card he left for her when she was in the hospital, "…sure."

He couldn't look her in the eye, and she inwardly dreaded where this conversation would go.

Before he led her away, Madara spun her to him and kissed her, making sure to linger and flicker his gaze towards Sasuke threateningly— marking her and reminding his younger cousin not to do anything stupid.

Sakura pulled away, face flush and embarrassed. She missed the virile threat Madara exuded — and maybe it was the alcohol messing with her head, but she felt extremely lightheaded.

He managed to pull her out of the casino area and onto a balcony bar. It hung over downtown Kyoto with string lights calmly twinkling around the railing and seating area. There were only a few people up here aside from the bartender and hired guitarist gently strumming his guitar.

It was…Romantic.

In the corner away from possible prying ears, Sasuke faced her.

He stayed quiet, and she got irritated by his usual silence, "what?" she said sharply.

"Did you get my card?" he asked.

She raised a brow, "you asked me out here to talk about your _card_?"

Sasuke sighed, she could see the wheels turning in his head — she could feel the frustration with himself and his inability to express him through words. "I wrote a letter…It was inside the card."

"Well I didn't read it," she said blandly, defiantly crossing her arms over her chest, "…if this is all you're going to talk about—" she turned to leave.

"Wait!" he moved to grab her arm, but retracted — afraid she might get mad at him for touching her.

Sakura stopped, wondering why she was giving him her time at all.

"Don't…Go, _please,_ " his voice quivered, getting her attention.

She turned to face her ex-fiance, and all of a sudden her empty finger that used to be home to her engagement ring felt too light.

"I…You know I'm not good at this," Sasuke admitted, "but I can't do this. I miss you, Sakura."

The way he rolled over the syllables of her name gave her goosebumps, he always said it so tenderly it made her heart ache, "well I don't miss you."

"—You had years to miss me and didn't, you didn't miss me all the nights you ditched me to party with your clan — but you miss me now that I'm not there," she scorned him, "typical."

He fumbled over his words, and the pained expression on his face contorted into guilt, "I'm sorry….I'm sorry for everything. You didn't deserve the way I treated you."

Sakura felt her anger spark like a revved engine, "I didn't! I didn't deserve the bruises you left on me, I didn't deserve to cry wondering why we were drifting apart — but look at you, you're doing great now, so it looks like you got everything you wanted."

"No, I _need_ you! I haven't slept in months, I think about you…All the time," his throat dried, and she could see the internal battle to get his words out, "I love you."

Her heart stopped.

It thumped unsteadily in her chest as her stomach jumped to her throat, he had only ever said 'I love you' twice before, on the night he proposed, and the first time after she spent a month bringing him from the long depression after his parents passed.

Those words were heavy to Sasuke.

"Don't do that!" Sakura snapped, "you can't do that!"

" _Please_ ," his voice shook and he reached forward to grab her hand. Sakura clenched her jaw, angry and hurt all wrapped into one. The alcohol got to her and she wrenched her gaze away from him.

"Sorry isn't good enough," she pulled her hand away from the boy she loved for most of her life.

Sasuke had this coming. He deserved this, and this would be his punishment.

The broken man that stood in front of her seemed so different than the confident one that was driven by the proceedings of Madara's orders only a few months ago. It pained her to see him like this, but she had to think of herself.

"You love him, don't you?"

The question threw her, "excuse me?"

"You love Madara."

Sakura swallowed, "I—no!" Her cheeks warmed at the thought, "it's none of your business!"

"I can see it. Itachi told me you can tell when a woman loves you, and the way you look at him is how you looked at me."

She sunk into herself, unable to fight against what he said.

"Everyone gives him a pass," Sasuke shook his head sardonically, a wry smile graining his lips, "you fell in love with someone that's worse than me."

She bristled, "he wouldn't _hit_ me, Sasuke!" she bit under her breath, barely holding onto her anger, "he has been nothing but be good to me!"

Sasuke took a step forward, "he wanted you from the beginning! You're a prize to him, something he won over. You've seen what he's done. You _know_ who he really is. How can you stand there and forgive his behavior but not mine?"

This was the most Sasuke had ever opened up, and it was pissing her off that he chose to do this now, "I'm done with this conversation."

She whipped and stomped away from him, anger and adrenaline coursing through her.

He followed after her, and she wound her way to the casino floor — purposely ignoring him calling after her. She hated him, _hated_ him!

Losing him in the winding floor, she headed straight for Madara.

When she reached him, he turned to see the familiarly angry Sakura "are you alright?" he roamed his eyes over her to make sure she was ok.

Before anyone could figure out the situation, there was an unsettling silence as a new group entered the casino.

At their head, Tobirama Senju stood tall with several other well suited men.

The room went silent.

Madara shifted beside her, and most of his men stood up to keep an eye on the familiar face.

Dressed in a white suit, Sakura looked between Madara and Tobirama — recognizing him from the day he followed her and his impromptu visit at the hospital. Almost instantly, he started heading for Madara, and part of her wondered what was going on to cause the disruption in the night.

Like a pariah, most of the Uchiha followed Tobirama as he made his way towards Madara.

Madara took a protective step in front of her.

"Tobi!" Madara greeted callously, his fake charm drenching his words, "what brings you to Bisu?"

The two men stood at the same height, and Sasuke appeared beside her — making sure to keep her in range in case anything happened.

_What the hell is this?_

Slowly sobering up, it didn't take much to figure out there was bad blood between these two men, and it reminded her about Tobirama's warning about her lover.

"Madara," Tobirama said cordially before looking at the pink gem sandwiched between the two Uchiha men.

" _Haruno-_ san, pleasure seeing you here." Tobirama nodded his head towards her, emphasizing her last name to make it clear she didn't belong to this clan — causing _both_ Madara and Sasuke to stop and give her a blatantly confused glance.

Sakura could feel the heat of the room at her back, "uh…Hello, Detective," she squeaked — _feeling_ the thwarting look from the entirety of the Uchiha.

"I take it you're having a nice time?" he gave her a soft, minimal smile — but it was enough to make Madara bristle unhappily at her side.

"Yeah, it's nice. What brings you here?" she baited back, wondering why the hell it felt like she was talking to the enemy here.

Sure, they were part of a criminal organization — but they didn't have anything to hide here, right? Or so she hoped.

"Decided to try my luck tonight," he drawled, gold watch glimmering on his thick wrist, "but it seems I'm already lucky by seeing you."

Sakura blanched.

_Hard._

Mouth left agape at his bold flirting, Sakura blushed and looked away — wondering what the hell was happening.

Madara clucked his teeth and moved in front of her, "what do you want, Senju?"

Tobirama shrugged his shoulders, "nothing that concerns you, Madara. My brother always enjoyed gambling — and seeing as it's the anniversary of his death, I thought I may come and play in his honor tonight."

A bold silence ensued.

"It seems we shared the same sentiment," Madara smoothly pointed out, "I think Hashirama gave me some of his dumb luck."

If the chips on his side of the craps table were any indication — Tobirama narrowed his eyes, "luck he didn't have the night he passed."

Her lover's face fell, "this again?"

The white haired male backed off, "you're right. Let's enjoy my brother's memory in familiar company — as long as this beauty stands by us."

Sakura wanted to slink away, feeling like a roasted piece of meat as the tall personalities dwarfed her physically and emotionally.

"By _me_ ," Madara corrected.

And thus Sakura stood to the left of Madara as him and Tobirama gambled together.

There was a strong point of contention she didn't understand, and even more so — there was something stabbed in their past that could be seen in their interaction with each other. Shisui, Sasuke, and Itachi all stood close, waiting for something to happen — but the men Tobirama showed up with were clearly other men in law enforcement.

It gave her a weird sense of safety knowing that for _once_ , guns wouldn't be involved.

Under their breath, Tobirama and Madara spoke.

"What do you want, Tobi?" Madara coined familiarly. There could only be one reason why Tobirama would get near him, and always a man of looking ahead — he should have expected this visit.

"There's a sharp increase in gun activity in this region — the shooting and bombing downtown stink of Uchiha, so I thought I would come and ask," Tobirama explained, but already knew the truth of it.

Madara smirked as he tossed the dice, "and why would _I_ know anything about that?"

"Because you have a hand in everything in this city — and you and I both know what your clan does."

Without a tell, Madara kept his eyes trained on the table and vibrant chips, "do you? Have you gotten any further in your revolutionary plot to expose us? It wouldn't make sense for you to be here if you were."

"I'm further than you think," Tobirama jested, earning him a pointed look from the Uchiha.

"No, I don't know anything," he answered with finality, wanting this discussion to be over — when he tossed the dice, they shot and landed on a seven — earning Madara an explicit sigh and round of curses from the table as everyone lost their bet.

It was Tobirama's turn, and with a smirk he grabbed the dice before shaking them in his palm, "I'll tell you this — I would tie up any loose ends you have, Uchiha," he threatened. Tobirama reached past Madara to Sakura who was awkwardly minding her own business so she could blow on the dice.

"For luck?" Tobirama winked at her.

This felt reminiscent of the night of the gala when she first met Madara, and she peered curiously up at the clan leader who was clenching his jaw so tight she thought he might crack his teeth.

Hesitantly, she blew on the dice.

The entire table quieted and made their bets.

Tobirama purposely flicked his eyes to the bracelet on her wrist, and then roamed back up to her face. Sakura blinked, trying to figure out why his energy felt so familiar. The Senju purposely kept his gaze trained on her when he tossed the dice, breaking away to look only when he landed on the seven, spinning the game in their favor.

Unlikely odds for a first roll — and the table won.

There was no celebratory victory, but it made Madara look like a fool.

Tobirama collected his chips, "have a good night — Uchiha, Sakura." He dipped his head and left, his friends following at his back.

The room slowly resumed it's jovial nature, but only after Madara left wit her hand in his own — nearly breaking the door after them when they left to be alone.

 _'What the hell just happened?'_ Sakura wondered idly.

On the way home Madara didn't question her about knowing the detective, he simply held her hand and looked out the window with a pained expression on his face. When they got to their building, he hugged her from behind and asked her to spend the night. Happy to oblige, she half expected him to ravage her — but instead he held her against him, silently running his fingers over her skin.

For the first time, she witnessed him being sad and it tore her apart.

All he said to her before they fell asleep in eachother's arms was, "stay with me."

Not wanting to break their mood, Sakura nodded her head against his chest, "of course."

She didn't ask him about it or press him for answers — and he fell asleep cuddling beside her.

There was more to this that needed to be dug up.

xox

_Madara's Apartment_

Sakura had the morning off and got up at her usual time — right before the sun crept over the mountains.

So she decided to be productive with her time.

By the time nine in the morning rolled around, she had two cups of coffee and organized his dishes. He was an immaculate man and well organized, but her peculiars for organizing his kitchen were enough to drive her crazy.

She made a simple breakfast and had it ready all before ten, and crept back into his room to see that yep — he was still asleep.

Sakura pouted, for being one of the most successful and busy men in this city, he sure could sleep a lot.

Getting bored of waiting for him, Sakura smiled to herself and decided to play with him to wake him up. Creeping over to the bed, she crawled on and snuck her way to sit by his head. Leaning over — she bit her lip to stop herself from making any noise.

Grabbing the tips of her hair, she tickled the tip of his nose.

Madara's face scrunched up and he batted away her hair.

Giggling devilishly to herself, she did it again.

He groaned and batted again, making the absolute cutest face she had ever seen on a man before.

Doing it again, this time he shifted and turned onto his shoulder and pulled the sheets over his head like a small child.

She was laughing silently, clutching at her side to stop her fit of giggles.

The almighty Madara wasn't a morning person — and even more so, dead asleep he was so easy to tease!

With the sheet defending his face from her ticklish hair, the cover rose and revealed his magnificent butt to her.

Sakura was determined to wake him up.

An evil idea came to mind, and she wiggled herself closer to his butt.

With a sinister grin, Sakura carefully watched him to make sure he was still asleep — and the steady rise and fall of his chest propelled her to ghost her hand over his bottom.

Counting down from three, she pinched his left buttcheek.

Hard.

The sting woke him up with a jolt and reached for his ass — jumping out of bed, " _what the fu—!"_

He half launched her off the bed with his momentum, and Sakura flew off the edge, landing on her back hysterically laughing.

Madara's face was beet red as he cupped his wound — bleary eyed with his hair sticking out in every which direction, forced to listen to Sakura's laughter.

"Oh my god!" she clutched her sides, tears slid out of her eyes as he stood over her — she couldn't breathe, it was too funny! "You should see your— ah, face right now!" she broke in-btween laughter pointing at him, rolling on the floor.

He wasn't impressed.

His ass was sore, and he was woken up on one of the few mornings he allotted himself to sleep in.

"It isn't funny!" he griped, pouting.

She couldn't take it anymore, this was the funniest thing ever.

Deciding to extract revenge, Madara plunged to the floor and sat over her — "you think you're slick, don't you?" he teased, tickling her sides.

Sakura fought against him, "no, no!" she laughed, trying to bat his hands away.

He was merciless and held her arms over her head to tickle her armpits.

She lost it.

He tickled her until she was crying from laughing and red in the face, "ok! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Madara let her go and she couldn't stop laughing. Seeing her like this, it made him laugh — loud and hard at the absurdity of their situation. He felt too young for his age, the odd pains and crickets he normally woke up to seemed fine as they laughed on his floor, him naked and Sakura giggling like mad beneath him.

When they calmed down, Sakura wiped the tears from her eyes as she tried to gain her breath.

Madara moved himself off of her and sat against his bed, scratching his forehead and shaking his head, "you're ridiculous."

Still in a silly mood, Sakura rolled onto her stomach and posed cutely for him, "you love it," she teased — bright smile lighting up her face.

With the sun shining down on her and making her eyes sparkle with a face flush from laughing — she looked like a literal ball of sunshine.

"I love _you_ ," he said.

Sakura paused, wondering if she heard him correctly. She turned to sit up and got stuck, words caught in her throat.

But he didn't take it back, and he held her gaze intently.

He wasn't a man to say these words freely, and he had only ever said them to one another woman before — but it felt so _natural_ because Sakura made him happy and he truly fell for this woman in front of him.

Sakura didn't know what to say.

"Y..You do?" she whispered in disbelief.

Madara finally broke their gaze, looking away — wondering why he admitted that so soon. He smiled wryly, realizing the heaviness of his feelings, "I do. Though I suppose it's a bit too soon, right?"

_'You fell in love with someone that's worse than me.'_

Her ex's words felt heavy in her heart, but staring at this multifaceted man confused her.

She could see the disappointment and vulnerability in his face, and it hurt her to see him like this. Could she say she loved him? Sakura wasn't a liar, he did make her heart flutter every time she saw him — and each day they hung around each other it felt like they had been together for an entire lifetime already.

It felt so impeccably _natural_ to be with him — the constant years of vying for Sasuke's attention and living off the bare minimum of his affection compared to the mountain of attention and time Madara doted on her seemed like two different planes.

Sakura crawled over to him so she could straddle his lap.

In the last two days she was beginning to see a softer side of the harsh clan leader and business man that she never thought he could possibly have. "No, it's not."

He couldn't look her in the eye.

She grabbed either side of his face and made him look up at her, "—I'm _yours_ , Madara. You have all of me." Throwing back the words he said to her at the top of the cliff made his eyes widen in recognition. She didn't have to tell him what it meant for him to understand.

Unspoken words were shared between the two opposites, because although she couldn't say she loved him now — he was quickly consuming her heart.

Sakura kissed him and slowly shifted her hips atop his stirring member.

Madara rolled them over and pushed aside her shorts — spreading and entering her under the morning light.

It was soft and sweet. Her body arched as he used her, he suckled on her breast and swirled his tongue around her nipple, the mesh of their unguarded hearts brought their bodies together in a clash of towel-ringed emotion. He spread her in front of his large-paned windows, causing her to moan his name. She loved being filled by him. He loved how she responded to his nimble touches.

Light gasps of promises of forever escaped their lips when they came together.

When they were done, Madara hauled her back onto his bed — they decided to forgo their responsibilities in favor of pleasuring one another until Shisui knocked on the door, expertly interrupting them.

Madara opened the door with a sharp look on his face, and if any opening the door with a half-thrown on robe and hickeys on his collarbone were any indication, Shisui realized his mistake, "did I interrupt something?"

Madara shut the door on him.

xox

_Mid-City Kyoto_

"Why would someone have a business here?" Sakura grumbled as she tried to find the hidden shop. The doctor had been searching for the last thirty minutes for an antique shop that the librarian directed her to that had someone who _might_ be able to translate the journal.

Who knew this would be such a difficult task for a stolen book.

When she finally entered the dingy shop that looked like it belonged to a hoarder — Sakura crept inside and looked around. Old Japanese military trinkets and war artifacts were carefully displayed, but they were accompanied by a disarray of…Junk.

She didn't know where to look at the different religious books or the weapons or the papers that littered the small shop. Subconsciously she pressed the journal closer to her chest. The place looked empty and dusty — making her wonder if there was anybody around, "uhm…Is anyone here?"

Silence.

Walking up to the desk, Sakura peered around — until she noticed a small figurine of a faceless woman. It was sculpted of clay, and for reasons beyond her, Sakura felt inclined to run her fingers over the fine texture.

"DON'T touch that!" a harsh voice sounded from the backroom.

The male rushed towards the desk and slapped her hand away, "—fuck! Didn't you read the signs?!"

Sakura yelped and retracted, "sorry!" she apologized and bowed, noting that yes — there were clear signs everywhere telling customers not to touch anything.

The male heaved a sigh and pushed up his glasses, "what do you want?" he grumbled.

She didn't know whether to be scared or confused by this man. He was young — in his early thirties at most, and he had the prettiest jade colored eyes accompanied by slick back grey hair. Fumbling over her words, she tried to explain the journal, "oh, right! Well…I uh — found this journal and I can't decipher the text…I was told that you're knowledgeable in the old language of the Kyoto region?"

The man gave her an incredulous look, "who told you that?"

His attitude was starting to annoy her, "…Himiko-san at the library on fourth?"

He tuffed and got a look at the journal's cover, "that old bat sends everyone here because she doesn't know a fucking thing. Let me see it."

Sakura frowned, wondering if she should just leave but at this point she was desperate and put the journal on the desk.

The man flipped the page and paused, roaming his eyes over the text in awe, "this…Where the fuck did you find this?"

His whole demeanor changed and he started to flip through the pages, "this is gengo…! I started learning about this in school, but it's from a sub region thought to be entirely extinct!" he was getting hyper now, "holy fuck!"

He flipped through another page and Sakura grabbed it from him — forgetting where the hidden message was, "so can you help me?"

He nodded his head vigorously and ran to the back room, arriving seconds later with a large, dusty textbook.

He started to search through it and found a small section, showing it to Sakura — she started to read off the paragraph, " _gengo*_ …A formerly forgotten language and subtext in the outer Kyoto regions that affected a subdivision of clans during the warring states era. Texts and examples are uncommon due to translation error and lack of documentation and heavy influence of the speculated Great War."

Sakura's voice faltered at the end, "great war…?" she murmured, having the distinct feeling of hearing about this before.

"Speculated," he reminded her.

"How is a war _speculated?_ "

"Rumored," he said, as if it were the easiest thing to comprehend.

"What are you talking about?" she quipped, getting more annoyed with him.

He sighed, "did you pay attention in your history courses at all? Fuck! Ever heard of that gravesite with the hundreds of bones that nobody knows anything about? Apparently it happened during the warring states because of a war there isn't record of. Some shit between clans but no one can verify it."

"That doesn't make any sense. They can look at bone fragment — weaponry. Anything — if they call it a great war there must be a reason for it," she tried to rationalize.

"No shit, dumbass."

"Excuse me?" she snapped, "if you're going to be an asshole than I don't need your help!"

Before she could leave, he scrambled to get her to stop, afraid the odd pinkette and the journal might step out of his shop, "wait!"

Sakura paused, glaring at him, "what?"

The male ran a hand through his thick silver hair, "alright — I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself, I'm Hidan — I don't see people in here very often, so sometimes I get a little annoyed."

He extended his hand and she hesitantly shook it, deciding to forgive him for the sake of getting this journal translated, "Haruno Sakura."

xox

_Feudal Japan  
Uchiha Stronghold_

"What the fuck is that thing?" Hidan peered over Sakura's shoulder curiously as she grabbed a feather quill and some ink.

"It's a journal! One of the villagers gave it to me this morning. Hatake-san made it himself, isn't it pretty?"

" _Soo_ pretty," he rolled his eyes sarcastically and sat back down, frowning and looking to the west.

"—When will Madara be back?" he asked her.

Sakura pursed her lips, "tomorrow," she eventually answered, starting to write on the empty page.

"So I assume you forgave the bear?" he tuffed, wondering where her valor to kill him went. The man couldn't have been _that_ smooth. Or maybe he was.

"He's _not_ a bear. He has his faults, but we've come to a mutual…Understanding."

Hidan choked on his laughter, "right. An understanding in his bed! I could hear you from the lower wing, never took you as a screamer."

Sakura blushed scarlet and whipped around to face him, "you heard that?"

"The _deaf_ heard you, Princess."

She refused to face him, realizing that she must have broke her hold on her power…Halfway through their time the night before. Anxiety ate at her stomach, Madara was heading west to speak with an advisor of the Senju in an attempt to reach an agreement. Part of her was still worried he would try and kill the remaining Senju, but for now all armies were stalled in the west until Madara could speak with Hashirama-sama.

Her talk with him and their time together was working as planned, and bloodshed could be avoided.

When he returned, she was going to be completely transparent and tell him about her lineage. He must have an idea by now, but he didn't pressure her to tell him anything.

So she wanted to start documenting everything about her days. If there were ever a time where she blacked out again — she wanted to remember.

Ignoring Hidan's teasing, Sakura began writing in the journal.

xox

_Tobirama's Apartment_

This was really too easy.

Tobirama shuffled through the thick stacks of paper until he found the manila colored folder labeled 'Madara Uchiha.'

Working for both the law and Yakuza could be stressful, but it was times like this that made it worth it. The bullet shells Itama finagled from his office as a sample matched the same types of guns that were being distributed throughout the city. They also matched the shells from the inter faction Yakuza bombing.

He gnawed on the edge of his pen, trying to piece together the Uchiha's dealings in both situations.

Obviously someone was selling the guns to local buyers and the Yakuza were picking them up like gutter rats. Tobirama had a sneaking suspicion that the Uchiha really didn't have anything to do with the bombing, but the hit on their hideout was on purpose.

After going through hours of footage, he was able to see which alley Sakura disappeared through when everything happened. He was positive that Madara and his men came to her rescue, but the deserted alley behind the main street didn't have any cameras — all he needed was proof the Uchiha had the guns at all.

It seemed like each day there was a new incident involving a shooting.

He was running out of time.

And fighting three fires as on person was exhausting. One being the case of the Uchiha and their evident guilt in supplying this city with drugs and weapons, the other dealing with the Yakuza's hit and handling his faction, and unveiling the truth about his brother's death.

Sighing inwardly, Tobirama wondered if his plan worked.

If Madara started questioning Sakura's viability with knowing him, then slowly cracks would begin to surface. She was a caged animal, or so he thought. She seemed perfectly content with her place among the Uchiha at the casino, and any opportunity of tearing them apart would be a lot more difficult than he first assumed.

His phone rang, breaking up his scattered thoughts — and perhaps the only person to call him chimed in happily, "Tobi! The prints came in, want to meet me at the station or your place?"

"My place."

For the first time in years, he felt like he took another step forward in solving the case of his Hashirama's death.

xox

_Sakura's Apartment  
Downtown Kyoto_

Exhausted and unable to keep her eyes open, Sakura hung onto the edges of consciousness trying to stay awake.

After several long hours of tedious translating the broken and worn text, they were only able to get through the first page. Hidan offered to keep going, but she decided that was enough for now. The journal came off as more of a story than it did a diary, which stumped her previous assumption of it being simply factual.

Tt started off with a young girl's village being ravaged by a group of rogues that tore her apart from her father. The fires blazed through her village and the men died trying to protect their home while the women and children were stolen and brought into the slave trade. Most of them died there, but the young girl managed to stay alive.

It was used in a first person narrative which made it nearly impossible to decipher who this journal may have belonged to…But Sakura had an odd feeling as her eyes combed over the words.

It felt…Familiar.

Every word that Hidan broke down (which was unendurable based on the old paper and faded text meant that he had to piece each letter back together based on a loose pattern _if_ they could even guess the symbol correctly) so she would sit by him and read him back other variables for the text from another artifact he had and a book that briefly went over the language.

Each word was a process, and she almost pulled out her hair with how slow and meticulous he was about it.

It reminded her of the odd dreams she was having that suddenly stopped.

Could it be that girl that looked like her with the long hair?

No, that was insane.

Sakura rubbed her eyes, feeling her eyes burn from exhaustion. She had work in the morning and needed to get to sleep, Sasuke left her a message asking to talk again — but she was too tired to deal with him for now.

Without realizing it, she fell asleep.

xox

_Senju Estate  
Feudal Japan_

_The world danced in a cloak of black and blue light._

_Sakura tried to blink them away but found the stars shimmered brighter. Her body was light, she couldn't feel her limbs — but it didn't terrify her._

_The muted sound of muffled voices caught her attention, and she spun in the inky blackness to turn in that direction, but couldn't see anything._

_Much too suddenly, the air was sucked from her lungs and she gasped for air. Clawing at her throat, she wordlessly choked in the darkness as the beautiful lights faded, leaving her in complete darkness._

_Was she dying?_

_And all too suddenly a bright light snatched her and threw her into a room with two men and a woman._

In the corner, a redheaded woman with traditional buns in her hair kept her face serious — beside her a man with long, chocolate brown hair looked down on a map — and lastly another man that looked like —-

Sakura paused, noticing it was the detective.

"Detective?" she croaked out, her throat still dry.

All heads in the room paused, looks of confusion on their face, "did you hear that?" Tobirama looked around.

Mito looked straight at her, "it came from that direction."

The man with long brown hair waved them off, "you guys are overreacting, it was probably one of the maids."

Sakura looked down at herself, she was still wearing her shorts and summery tank top — could they see her? She poked her own stomach and the density planted her in reality — what was going on?

To test if it was a dream, she pinched her arm, "ow!" she hissed.

All heads turned in her direction again.

"Someone is there," Tobirama bolted upright and walked right past her and to the door. When he flung it open, no one was there.

Sakura shrunk and pressed herself against the wall.

"Ignore it, brother," Hashirama chastised, "and explain to me again how you don't remember?"

The graceful woman frowned, "you were in love with one another. How is it that you don't remember Sakura-chan?"

Tobirama glared at them, "and how is it that you two aren't understanding? I _don't know_ that name. I woke up along the main path with coins in my pocket, my sword, and a mare!"

Sakura's heart jumped in her throat, — _are they talking about me?_

His deep, baritone voice sounded exactly like the detective's, but it couldn't be him.

Both Hashirama and Mito gave each other a sympathetic look, wondering how badly they must have tortured him for him not to remember, "…she went after you, I can safely assume she bartered for your freedom in exchange for her own," his brother explained.

Tobirama huffed, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest, "what a horrid trade for the Uchiha. A mere girl for me?"

Mito glared at him, "don't disrespect Kazuya-san's daughter like that! Sakura is a lovely girl."

"That _mere girl_ was the key to half of the other Uzumaki. She and the Hyuga are the reason we lost Itama and are losing this war!"

_What the hell are they talking about?!_

Tobirama was getting more disinterested by the second, anger building in his chest at the mention of his brother, "which is why we are killing that whole fucking house! Madara pretends to broker a preliminary truce, but I know his real intention. He wants us dead as much as we want them dead!"

Sakura wanted to say something, but couldn't afford to.

This had to be a dream. He looked just like the detective, a couple of minor differences — like this man had red stripes tattooed on his face whereas the detective was clean faced. Maybe the stress of the clan and Sasuke was getting to her. Maybe it was her guilt and her subconscious was going wild.

It _had_ to be.

The vehemence and anger stemming from his brother made Hashirama glance down at the map, gripping the edges of the table, "…I don't want to know what happened to you over there, brother…But I must say that Sakura made you a much nicer man."

The younger Senju shook his head before leaving, "I don't know who you're talking about! Nor do I care to know! You need to focus on our safety, Hashirama! Or do you plan to lose to Madara?"

He slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Sakura quaking.

_It's just a dream. It's just a dream._

In an instant, she was pulled from that room and into the darkness again.

Already expecting the air to be taken from her, she held her breath.

Except this time it didn't happen and she found herself thrust into a large wooden area.

The sound of clashing metal surrounded her, and she followed the source — halfway stumbling and dizzy from the quickness of it all.

"Gotcha!" a feminine voice sounded.

Sakura peaked around a tree, barely able to catch her breath when she spotted the woman similar to her fighting against a man eerily akin to the translator she met earlier that day. This woman was from her dreams, except her hair was much, much shorter than last time and she was wearing a hakama tied together by an obi, it looked rather funny — but she made it work.

Leaning against the tree, she felt the source of a strong power coming from… _Her_. It buzzed around her like a bright light, engulfing the encompassing area in warm energy.

The shorter haired woman stopped, sensing her.

Hidan failed to notice anything and swiped Sakura's feet from beneath her, pinning her to the ground with his scythe to her neck, "you need to pay attention at all times. This is how you get yourself fucking killed."

The past Sakura huffed, bitter in her loss but feeling utterly alive with the thrill of training again, "can you get off? I thought I saw something."

He shuffled off of her, returning his scythe over his shoulder, "whatever. I have to go make a sacrifice anyway, I'll be back in a few days."

This caught her attention, and she lifted herself up, "don't touch _any_ of the villagers, _anywhere_."

He ignored her, "whatever, Sakura- _hime —_ I'll find some menacing rapist if it'll make you sleep at night."

Sakura sizzled at the taunt of her title, and he rubbed the top of her hair with his hand affectionately before leaving, he wasn't a man of goodbyes — and she preferred it this way.

Now then.

Present Sakura stepped from beyond the tree, being called by the bright energy that whipped wildly around the woman who looked terrifyingly similar to herself.

The two women faced each other for the first time outside of Midnights Run, in the bright light of the past world their similarities were far more than their discrepancies. "Who are you?" the princess guarded herself, unsure of _who_ this girl with her odd clothing could possibly be.

"M-me?" Sakura stuttered, realizing that she was being talked to, "you can see me?"

"Of course I can!" the princess gripped her knife tightly, "now tell me who you are!"

The two strong headed women glared at one another, "no! You tell me! You're in _my_ dream!"

"Dream?" past Sakura asked dubiously, "you're in the eastern lands, a mile away from the Uchiha stronghold — you're in _my_ land, so tell me who you are now!"

Sakura stopped, suddenly aware of the warm air and crisp wind on her skin — the birds were alive in the flurry of spring. She started to panic, "this isn't a dream," she realized, touching her forehead as it suddenly started to burn.

The princess walked forward, pausing time.

It was becoming easier each time she did it, and she recognized this girl from the ethereal zone — maybe this was her reincarnation? Her power felt even greater in the presence of this odd girl, and she stood in front of her future self. They shared the same face aside from minor differences, but their eyes were entirely similar.

"Your name is Sakura, isn't it?"

Sakura watched as the world stopped in awe, barely able to react from the sheer _power_ this woman exuded, "…it is. Sakura Haruno. I…I'm from Kyoto Japan."

The two women looked each other in the eye.

One with the body of that of a fighter and survivor.

The other with the softer curves and comfort of the future.

"Wh-where am I?"

Past Sakura couldn't understand this…But they needed to figure this out, "come with me."

The trek was deathly silent.

Sakura had so many questions, and the world was still on their way home. For brief flashes it would all resume, and each time it stopped her forehead would burn. After an hour of this, she finally grabbed the woman's shoulder with a frown, demanding answers,"where are we going?"

Past Sakura looked down at the Uchiha's castle from their spot on the hill, determined to get them to her quarters unseen, "…home."

When they entered the grand building — faces were frozen in time. The large, decorated halls were rich in luxury. Textiles of red and black amassed the structure, and Sakura found herself lost in the transient nature of this world.

This wasn't possible.

She passed soulless eyes, and the inner doctor within her wondered if they were ok, "…are they alright?"

Past Sakura looked over her shoulder, "don't worry about them. They're safe."

When they reached her quarters, the world resumed outside.

"I suppose I should introduce myself to my future incarnation," past Sakura pressed her hand to her stomach, wondering how and why her reincarnation suddenly dropped into her world. Could it be because of her growing power? Was there a reason fate bound them together now? At this point, so many things had sufficed to shock and thwart her undestanding of reality that this didn't surprise her.

"—My name is Sakura Uzumaki, daughter of Kazuya and Azule Uzumaki. I am betrothed to Madara Uchiha, and we are in the west dominion of Japan. As you saw, this is the Uchiha's castle."

Her future self lost all color in her face, and for a moment she was afraid she might pass out.

" _Wh-what_?!"

 _"Keep your voice down!"_ Sakura snapped, "if they hear us people will get suspicious."

Present Sakura fell down onto the bed, her head light — "h-how is this possible? I was just asleep and then I was here!"

"I"m not sure," the princess answered, disappearing into her extension to get the girl some water. Upon her return, she handed her delicate self the glass, "drink that so you don't faint."

An odd, awkward silence daunted them.

"…If _you're_ Sakura, and _I'm_ Sakura — how is this going to work?"

Past Sakura thought about it and pursed her lips, "…that's a good question. I suppose to keep things less confusing, you may refer to me as Sakuya." She pinned it from her father's name.

"Right," Sakura answered, rubbing her temple from her building migraine.

"I suppose you should know what's happening?" Sakuya felt inclined to explain, but the poor girl looked like she couldn't handle all the information Azule threw at ther — but she had to wonder _how_ this girl made it back here. Before that, she needed answers, "do you remember what happened to you before you got here?"

"Should I?" she quipped back, staring revernely at this pixie-like woman. It was odd, really. They were the same person, but so different in disposition, "I was in another room with some people...And before that I felt like I was floating..." Like an odd dream that felt so vivint and real while you're asleep, but the moment you wake up it becomes a hazy mess that you have to figure out.

"Floating?" Sakuya wondered.

A loud knock resonated over the room.

"Sakura-hime! We need to fit you for your wedding gown!" Mira's voice echoed from beyond the large oak door, and the princess panicked.

"One moment!" she pointed to the bathe — but Mira walked in already.

Both females froze, looking similarly guilty — and the young handmaiden stopped, the extravagant gown held preciously in her arms. Mira quickly bowed, oblivious to the other woman in the room, "sorry for barging in, but you said to bring this to you at once, and I couldn't wait any longer!"

Straightening herself, Mira shuffled to the bed, passing through Sakura and lying down the _uchikake*._

For a brief moment, both past and future held their breath at the beauty of the gown.

The crisp, white multi-layered dress was made of a fine silk that shimmered and reflected off the light. Hand-sewn, gold flower designs were stitched into the expensive material on the edges of the billowed sleeves. Each layer was bordered in the bright red of the Uchiha clan, Mira raised it to show her the back. On the back, lit aflame the _Uchiwa_ symbol was prominently stitched in red and outlined in black, the long material tumbled to the floor — temporarily making Sakuya forget she had another person in the room.

What both women failed to realize was that they felt eachother's wonderment.

"It's...Beautiful," Sakuya murmured softly, reaching out but retracting her hand — she had never seen something so beautiful before. Nothing in her closet came close to the extravagance of this kimono, not even the fine kimono's that Madara gifted her when she was a concubine. He must have spent a fortune on this piece, and part of her felt guilty for touching it with her calloused fingers.

"Isn't it?" Mira beamed, proud of the workmanship of the clan's seamstress.

Sakura crept forward and touched the gown, tilting her head as she felt the luxurios material in between gentle fingers.

So she could touch things, but apparently not be seen by anybody but her…Predeccessor.

This was only confusing her further.

" _Sakura-hime_!" a distant, but booming voice called out to them.

Both women whipped in the direction of the voice, "Sakura!"

Mira quickly set the gown down as Inari burst into the room, "you need to come, now!"

"What is it!?" Sakuya was still dressed in her odd sparring outfit, but the general didn't notice.

"Madara-sama has been injured! We've brought him back, but he requested you!"

The Princess forewent her foreign visitor and bolted through the doors.

Sakura could _feel_ the panic her counterpart felt. It was the same dread that she felt during the night of the bombing — it was the same as when she witnessed Sasuke shoot the Yakuza members.

Trailing after her, she remembered the very clear words of the journal.

_You love Madara._

_You always have._

A loud, sharp buzzing echoed in her ears. Wincing and doubling over, the pain radiated through her skull. It rattled her until she fell to the floor, unable to catch up to her past self. The last thing she saw before the world went black was a large, bulky male being dragged into the room.

xox

_"Sakura-chan! Sakura-chan!"_

The sensation of someone waking her and shaking her shoulders jolted her awake.

Bleary eyed and unsure of where she was, the dim lighting of her apartment blinded her. Blinking back her daze, Shisui grabbed her arm, "you need to wake up! Madara-sama needs your help!"

_What?_

"Wh-where is he?" she sat up and was led through her apartment until they wound through to his apartment.

Shisui led her through the familiar walls of her boyfriend's apartment when she saw him in the kitchen with a makeshift tie around his arm, gritting his teeth as Izuna made it tighter to stop his bleeding, "hurry, come here!" Izuna ushered her.

Sakura ran over, there was so much blood — but from a quick eye she could see he clearly got shot in the arm and it might have hit an artery.

Adrenaline kicked her awake and she rushed to him.

"What happened!" she demanded, kneeling before him to quickly assess his wound.

"We were driving to Mirago when someone tried to get a hit on us!" Shisui quickly explained, "those fucks managed to get through the window — before we could get out they shot him!"

Each clan member was frantic. Shisui was intently watching her, Izuna looked ready to kill someone, and Sasuke was arguing over the phone in the living room. Itachi looked out the window, jaw clenched.

This was their _rida_ , whether or not they agreed with his decisions and person — they were still family, and their bonds were closer than most other families.

"I need medical tools or a kit! I don't have anything here to get the bullet out," Sakura explained — she could have fed off their energy, but her years of practice and training in the surgery room made her oddly serious.

"In the spare bedroom!" Madara ground his teeth together and pointed.

Shisui bolted.

He gripped her free hand as she worked around his wound, before she could wash her hands to sterilize herself — he looked away, half-ashamed.

"I'm sorry to do this to you," he apologized against the pain, "if I went to the hospital there would be questions."

Sakura pursed her lips and nodded.

Too focused on saving him, when Shisui returned with the kit — she gave herself to her work. When she was in the operating room, there was nothing but her, the patient, and her tools. Her mind went to a place that focused on the safety of her patients and the improvement of their lives. She blocked out the chaos in the room and quickly made work of his wound - impressing all the men watching her.

An hour later Madara was stitched and bandaged.

The doctor washed her hands again as Madara and his men were calling everyone in their power to figure out who tried to kill them.

Madara looked at her and offered the simplest of smiles — reassuring her that he was ok.

Sakura heaved a sigh of relief. The wound wasn't bad or hard to fix, but she hated seeing him in pain — validating her feelings for the powerful man. He must have caught on to her stress that she finally allowed herself to feel, and after the many thanks and grateful compliments from his cousins, Sakura tried to make sense of her world.

And the world beyond this one.

What would she do without Madara?

It ate at her stomach to realize that Sasuke was right - she did love Madara Uchiha.

xox

"We missed him, Boss — I'm sorry," a raspy voice said over the phone.

Tobirama checked local hospital records to see if Madara was admitted yet but came up short. He ordered the hit on him after gearing his car with a tracking device when he met them at the casino. The male gnawed on his inner cheek before he slammed his fist on the table, cracking the wood, "fuck!"

Itama came back that morning with the fingerprints on the gun that killed Hashirama matched Madara's prints Tobirama stole off the dice the other night from the craps table.

It was a tense, sombering revelation for the brothers because they truly believed the justice system was on their side in his brother's case. They trusted Madara growing up. Hashirama and their brother were inseparable for so many years, and Madara became a permanent fixture in their home when he wanted to get away from his clan.

So not only did the court's lie in Madara's favor and brush his brother's death under the table (assumably they were bought out) — Madara _lied_ about killing his brother.

Fucking Uchiha.

Tobirama saw it coming, his suspicions for years were confirmed today — and in his silent rage he ordered the hit. He used his growing position in the Yakuza to kill the man that was already their target.

Itama worried for his sanity, the information they had been working towards for years was now proven — but how do you fight against a system rigged and ran by the Uchiha when you're only one man playing both sides?

You _don't_.

But he wasn't afraid.

He didn't care if he started a war — the as long as Madara's body was on the floor by the end of it, half the city could burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gengo: The name I'm using for the lost language of the past that's written in the journal.  
> Uchikake: A traditional Japanese wedding kimono.  
> Konohana Sakuya-hime: In Japanese mythology, she is the blossom princess and symbol of delicate earthly life.
> 
> I really wanted to incorporate aspects of this legend into this story, and felt that since past!Sakura and future!Sakura finally met, it would get quite confusing. So I decided to name past!Sakura - Sakuya based off of this legend when the past and future are together.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delayed update, but thank you for sticking with me. 
> 
>  
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment if you enjoy this story!  
> Thank you!


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